Crying for help
Crying.
for help.
Watching myself bend in half.
turning palms to see static.
Screaming whisper, tied tongue, aphtha secret, soot heart;
Godless, but hellish,
summoning dark forces
from within my own temple.
Giving away the life I never asked for.
Writing whoever's will.
Sorrowful hands, crossing t's,
dotting i's, smudging ink,
elongating g's, drawing down
my putrid whatever;
Giving up;
Surrendering;
Getting knocked down,
blow after blow after blow after blow after blow after
punch after kick after bruise after lost teeth after clot;
Losing conscience.
Like falling asleep in silence, no one knows.
Bones to dust,
dust to ashes;
Skin to scales,
scales into thin paper:
and I'm still writing it down,
though my hands are ancient and sore and
i don't want to anymore.
I never wanted it.
Help me out, let these hands retire.
Roll them up in holy water-soaked bandage, bring on the thorny crown, cross my chest and heart, lower my eyelids and lay me to rest.
To Rest;
to embalm this chipped spine, to fill my lungs with salt water,
to unclench my thighs,
unbend my knees, and to kiss my bottom lip goodbye.