deepundergroundpoetry.com
The butchering
My skin still burns,
Perfect imprint of your hand,
Where you gently carved your way,
Into my flesh,
Beneath my skin,
Into where you could hide away,
Your cravings and desires,
It still burns,
You entered like a fish hook,
Oh so smooth. Easy.
And left like one too,
Leaving a trail of flames,
And so much pain,
Revealing your secrets,
And pouring out mine,
Like the wa you slit my throat,
And out came my lies and sins,
Into a time of losing everything.
Perfect imprint of your hand,
Where you gently carved your way,
Into my flesh,
Beneath my skin,
Into where you could hide away,
Your cravings and desires,
It still burns,
You entered like a fish hook,
Oh so smooth. Easy.
And left like one too,
Leaving a trail of flames,
And so much pain,
Revealing your secrets,
And pouring out mine,
Like the wa you slit my throat,
And out came my lies and sins,
Into a time of losing everything.
Published 13th Jun 2014
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