My heart is on their hands,
diamonds on the moon are scarred;
the blood on their hands is mine.
They were a pack of wolves sleeping
on my love and roses, rising from dead stars.
They howled and said that I smell
of sins and stains; dead butterflies.
They wanted to feed off me,
their claws craved for some innocence.
There is a lady in my head,
and she makes me want to sleep
on my mother's bed, I'm scared.
Her chest was buried with flames.
Her button slipped and they showed their horns.
Their teeth sank deeper than her sanity's grave.
But they sushed my screams and said
the world they loved me. Did they?
There was a voice inside the
lamb's head, something sweeter than
Icarus wanting wings -
There were strap marks on her
but she let them bleed as the wolves
sinked in the river to wash
off the black blood on them.
“But they keep alive.”
I whispered everyday,
tasting my tears -
They tasted like broken temples
as they slid down my throat
like Medusa's snakes.
I cannot see the end.
Please help me out -
Pleasehelpmepleasehelpme.
Plea-
They killed me.
I held the blade inside the washroom,
listening to the girls outside talking
about beautiful boys with their saccharine voice.
Does that sweetness kill? Is that maitotoxin?
I screamed on the doctor because
he said
I
needed
medicines.
They wolves said I show too much skin
so they should just feed on it.
I picked up the decayed bones of the lamb.
I picked up the razorblade.
I held on to my breath as I searched
for my blood in the river.
But it was dry. The river was dry.
They stole my blood. My identity.
They changed me. They tainted me.
And they said, they were my friends.
~Sampurna
YOU ARE READING
Ink And Echoes
Poetry♚ ❛ Juliet, Tell me what is it like to vanquish - When you tossed the coin, And stepped on the battleground, With the accent of swords. Still you stand, Hands dripping of sin. In search of Romeo, You killed, And killed, And died. ❜ { Highest rank in...
