Is it cruel to wield love as a weapon?
A metal sheath housing your dagger of deception
Your love pours as water overflows from vessel,
And I'm left wondering about the bout of drought a few days back.
Patchy bandages cover this heart,
Infused with balm that never seeps into my soul
These patches so hastily stuck
Over a wound that's scabbed over,
Sure to leave a scar.
Just as I pick up the pieces,
Stitch myself into a semblance of a human
Just as I stroke salve into the scars,
Hoping to erase the phantom pain they house
You bare your fangs, and claw through them,
Deep into my soul, as the blood of my heart soaks in
Your unrelenting jabs and stabs
Give birth to more wounds to scar.
Is there a pain inside you that claws its way out?
Do you rejoice in catharsis amidst my screams and cries?
What perverse pleasure do you seek so obsessively?
And why is it linked to the tears of my eyes and the scars of my soul?
YOU ARE READING
A budding writer's collection
PoetryJust a bunch of poems written as and when I feel to write them
