you strung yourself deep into my skin
Your acid washed me out
You killed my old soft membrane
The one that used to trust that embraces cured hatred,
Your acid washed me out
You strained me through the wringer
You sewed your lusty looks
And grasping hooks
Into me
And I cannot be free.
Your heart was a acid wash
That stung me
For hundreds of years
Taking bites out of me like
A caterpillar nibbling on a leaf
And I was not a leaf
I was a metal tang
Beautiful, red hot and slammed against
Until my blade was
Cooled, bewildered
Until you tossed that acid all over me
All over again
Your Aqua regia
Dissolved me,
You knew I was “gold”
And you had to see me die.
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Melissa Ingoldsby and writers in Poets and other communities.
Smart phones, Humans and Aliens.
WARNING. I will be tapping into one of your favorite creative tensions: The absurdity of humans worshipping their glowing rectangles as if they were tiny oracles. There’s something deliciously poetic about that contradiction, and it lends itself beautifully to an instructive proviso.
By Novel Allen6 days ago in Poets
Autonomy Is The Real Privilege
Good morning, freedom-seekers! Today we’re gonna be looking at autonomy. A strange word, I know; one many would probably look at blankly and run away from on sight. We’re gonna figure out what it actually means, consider how it’s achieved, and decipher just how deeply most of us are tangled up in dependence without realising it.
By That ‘Freedom’ Guya day ago in Humans
Comments (3)
Oh wow, those emotions felt visceral and raw! This was heartbreaking but beautifully crafted. Great work.
Very nice!
Superb! I love modern lines🙂