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6-18-14
June 18, 2014
I’ve emptied the words that jeer inside my veins,
Jostling each other until they’ve scrambled my insides and send my ribs rattling.
I’ve used the thorns on wilted rose’s stems
To prick at my skin,
Solid droplets thudding on porcelain skin
With the bitter aftertaste
Of metallic chains
Rusted in the back of my mouth
From kissing my open wounds;
Better to build the scab
Before the words lose themselves.
© Karen S., Norwalk, CT
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