Photo by Conor Luddy on Unsplash
*
Maniacally slicing the chains of the past
an autopsy of sorts, designed for setting me free
I curl my hand tightly around the glass
The blood on my palm brings the sweetest release
A palpable fear
Now becoming airborne
it’s undeniably clear
What the rope was left for
If I cut it away leaving what’s dead on the floor
The past will be past
And I won’t live there no more
About the Creator
Kelli Sheckler-Amsden
Telling stories my heart needs to tell <3 life is a journey, not a competition
If you like what you read, feel free to leave a tip, I would love some feedback
Find me on twitter @kelli7958958
or facebook
Keep reading
More stories from Kelli Sheckler-Amsden and writers in Poets and other communities.
Comments (10)
Wowza! Perfect entry!
Great job!
I. LOVE. THIS. Like Cathy said, I love how there are different ways of interpretting it. Either way, it's very raw and powerful. I can't choose a favourite part because the whole thing was wonderfully written. Super well done!
Whoaaaa, those last two lines! I especially loved those!
Great poem using the word prompts cleverly... 'Maniacally slicing the chains of the past an autopsy of sorts, designed for setting me free'
Again something to think about and what choices that we make.
Interesting and delicious content, keep posting more now
Kelli it was awesome to read totally it was perfect.
I just read this three times and I love how interpretive it is. Are they cutting away the rope or cutting their wrists? I like that I have to think about that. I also agree with what Dana said, as it give me something else to think regarding the victim - sheltered adult or is it a child? I truly enjoyed this one, although I may be overthinking. Well.l done, my friend.
Nice! I love the depth of this and the casual grammar of the last line gives it a nice human touch.