"gibeah" poems
Defiled, I
Lay my battered bloodied body at your doorstep.
You cut my heart into 12 pieces,
Perfectly precise.
Am I to be happy that you went to war over me?
Plodding me deeper into the ground with your step.
A cold body isn’t warmed by happiness.
Or by the flickering flames of Gibeah.
No, I remember it was you who threw me out.
I remember. It was you.
Mar 4, 2021
Mar 4, 2021 at 9:07 AM UTC