Rhia Madison Thomer Poet Narrative

Something Like Hellfire

I can feel it,
you touching me
the way you:
held me
kissed me
caressed me
hugged me
tickled me.
The way you killed me
must make the go away
rid myself 
of this poison 
you left
to course through my veins
pulsating
with a heartbeat.
A heartbeat lost in itself
to a broken rhythm
as broken records keep repeating
things we no longer want to hear
because,
we hear them
again and again.
Must make it go away,
burn the touch of,
burn yes burn
go away.
Take matches to this skin
and burn away the horrid flesh
your touch
left behind
burning away
this insanity.

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Carol Sunshine Brown June 30, 2009 at 6:51 AM Wow your writing is absolutely amazing Madison. Love, Carol

Sajdah Al-Riyami June 29, 2009 at 11:23 AM "rid myself of this poison you left to course through my veins pulsating with a heartbeat." Makes me tickled by the spine=)

L'Nass Shango June 29, 2009 at 10:33 AM The geography of the self is always made beautiful by unrequited love, but the giving of the self makes our verses worthy of the will to love ... beyond the definition of men. One love