Soul Dance

They died too

Where are your accusers?
Those who tattooed you with their spittle
Bore a hole through your veins
To watch you die little by little
Made you smell your own stink
"You are not good enough" -
You believed, watch as you sink.

Where are your accusers?
They lurk round your grave
With tombstones over them
They died too
And you stood to watch