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Mysidian Bard
Poems
Jan 2017
The Needle and the Thread
It started as a puncture,
but the seam slowly ripped;
a thimble can't protect
from a poison needle tip.
She tried to mend it
by making more holes;
the tear only grew
and grew out of control.
At the spinning wheel
her life would quickly dwindle;
frantic attempts to hem
were depleting the spindle.
What started as a puncture
of seductive sedation
fueled the abuse
of machined perforation.
"Don't mourn a living corpse"
were the last words she said
as she drew the needle
that held the last thread.
#addiction
#life
#death
#******
#needle
#thread
#sewing
Written by
Mysidian Bard
32/M/Mysidia
(32/M/Mysidia)
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