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deepundergroundpoetry.com

That last spark in hell

† †  
All the light I can ever have † †
is cradled behind my splintered ribs †
and the draft in here is terrible. † †
† †  
I huddle around the † †
bare flicker of a spark, † †
dank hair tangled like † †
memory weeds † †
while futile salt † †  
streams through the † †
furrows in my cheeks† †
† †  
Öthe spark quivers. † †
† †  
that first unwelcome † †
brush of a finger, † †  
the fucking reason for † †  
every minute of my cursed life, †
and they donít make bleach † †
strong enough † †  
to wash out † †
the click of the † †  
bedroom door, † †
or the spindly † †  
ways the shadows † †  
dance against † †
the pale yellow walls † †
† †
There were sailboats on the blanketÖ
† †
† †  
Thereís no fire kit † †
for the damned; † †
hell is cold, † †
and the suffering is ugly †  
so you hold your hands †  
close and keep what you have †  
† †
I fucked, and I fought † †
and drank, and fucked, † †
and I journaled, and † †  
treated the world with the † †  
untroubled pomposity † †  
of the truly broken † †
as I raged and railed † †
and staged the grandest † †  
fucking show youíve ever seen † †
† †  
And I am amazing on the stage. † †
I really am. † †
† †  
Because † †  
you canít do anything † †  
to me that I donít allow, † †
you canít have anything thatís mine † †
You will † †  
Not † †
Hurt † †
Me † †
† †  
And Iíll never fail again. † †
† †  
Because I failed somehow † †
when my snow-white skin was † †
licked with someone elseís filth † †
I fucking failed in a way † †  
that screams in my sleep † †
under a pillow † †
with motherfucking † †
sailboats on it
† †
† †  
(I never really † †
left that room.) † †
† †  
Exhale slow to keep † †  
the flicker there. † †
If I breathe too easy † †
if I breathe too deeply † †
† †  
I could lose it. † †
† †  
All the light I can ever have † †
is cradled in this broken chest † †
and the draft in here is terrible. † †
† †  
If I moved my hand the slightest † †  
Iíd lose what they left me. † †
And itís so very little. † †
† †  
So I hold my breath. † †
I donít look in mirrors. † †  
I hear the nightmare shift † †  
† †  
and if I could let go for † †  
a moment † †  
† †  
if I could let go † †
and exhaleÖ † †
† †  
But the draft † †  
requires I keep † †  
both hands † †  
clenched at † †  
my chest. † †
† †  
Leaving me † †
nothing real † †
to reach out † †
with † †
† †  
† †  
† †  
† †
Written by Betty
Published | Edited 23rd Apr 2023
Author's Note
A quiet moment.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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