miyako73
11-02-2020, 07:48 PM
A torture chamber
this world of puppets
and executioners,
I have long forgotten
every tingle of pain
in my unformed body.
They can wrench
my glued painted nails
defaced by the rust
of the barbwire spikes
tearing my skin apart
before pulling my veins.
I can still go back
to that April season of
orchard tangerines
soft in my greedy grip
that could not wait,
my biting excitement.
They can disfigure
my shuddering fingers
at once with the solid
cruelty of ebony known
to tendons or bones
and to snivels or wails.
I can still recall all,
the fragrance of peels
in my mirthful palms,
the fibers of skin hiding
beneath my tongue,
and the curls as if alive.
They can slice off
my hands shaking not
from my gut or spine
but the cheerless words
bidding me goodbye
and the dimming faces.
I can still remember
the short distance from
the tree to my mouth
and between my lips and
throat tickled to speak
by the seeds I spat out.
A locked dungeon
this world of evil masks
and Glock guns I have
refused to be the grave
for my shapeless soul,
I will not be quiet, ever.
this world of puppets
and executioners,
I have long forgotten
every tingle of pain
in my unformed body.
They can wrench
my glued painted nails
defaced by the rust
of the barbwire spikes
tearing my skin apart
before pulling my veins.
I can still go back
to that April season of
orchard tangerines
soft in my greedy grip
that could not wait,
my biting excitement.
They can disfigure
my shuddering fingers
at once with the solid
cruelty of ebony known
to tendons or bones
and to snivels or wails.
I can still recall all,
the fragrance of peels
in my mirthful palms,
the fibers of skin hiding
beneath my tongue,
and the curls as if alive.
They can slice off
my hands shaking not
from my gut or spine
but the cheerless words
bidding me goodbye
and the dimming faces.
I can still remember
the short distance from
the tree to my mouth
and between my lips and
throat tickled to speak
by the seeds I spat out.
A locked dungeon
this world of evil masks
and Glock guns I have
refused to be the grave
for my shapeless soul,
I will not be quiet, ever.