hunger curls round
fingers fingering an empty plate
I starve
clinging to the crumbled promise of you
what provocative air you envelope me in
can this be love, trust, respect?
you make clear
you'll give me nothing
but space
and rope
so long I've teetered on the edge
of a chair
kicking at the one leg
hope dangling
like a laboratory diamond
at the end of a long chain you've wrapped
gentle as a scarf
round my neck
you suffocate me
as I beg for another hit
of oxygen
you surround me
breathe me in
live to be
my greedy airborne pathogen
my fuel, my drug, my one and only
no autopsy could ever reveal
the true nature of your crimes
against my humanity
__________
Author's Notes: Written for Poppy's Challenge #6 and uses prompt words: Autopsy, Airborne, Clear, Rope, Curl
__________
Copyright © 06/07/2024 by Christy Munson. All rights reserved.
About the Creator
Christy Munson
My words expose what I find real and worth exploring.
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