The Golden Rope That Binds Me
Like crimson bass strings
Like roses twirling in the breeze
Like cherry blossoms
Like tendrils climbing up my knees
Like long port wine stains
Shaping a name long cast aside
Like blazing embers
Smoldering before blazing bright
Like PTSD
Like golden strings around my neck
Like the putrid yellow
After storms leave the world a wreck
I call upon a savior
But your fell voice is all that comes
Like jaundiced bile
Spewing from my torn and blackened lungs
Staring at your shadow
Long fingers reaching out like claws
To scratch straight down my back
To free my bones for you to gnaw
I've given up October
And cast poor June upon the fire
Haunted by the Reaper's chains
Shackled by the prince of liars
The scent of smoke surrounds you
The smell of family and of home
And of purple bruises
Which day to day would often roam
Pull my sleeve up higher
Hide the reminder of your kiss
Even after it fades
There was no recovering from this
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