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Poetry and I Are On a First Name Basis
poetry
knows my
name
haunting
me
throughout
the
silence of the night
culling me
into a false sense of
warmth
and security
here
take this
poisoned quill
it whispers
fill the ink bottle
with your
tears
and
blood
scribble
all that pain
upon this leathered parchment
every
l
e
t
t
e
r
reverberating
from my frayed
n
e
r
v
e
s
bloodshot eyes
from
countless
sleepless days
With each
e
x
h
a
l
a
t
i
o
n
I can feel
the life slowly
begin
to leave my
weary body
r
e
c
o
r
d
the past traumas
one last time
write
erase
rewrite
until
i get every
meticulous
detail right
don’t want to suffer these
injustices for an
e
t
e
r
n
i
t
y
purge
the bitter acid
from the pit of my
stomach
cleanse
the narcissistic abuse
from my waking
nightmares
feverishly fill
saline soaked
book after book
until the final
microscopic
b
r
e
a
t
h
leaves this shaking body
place the quill
between ground down teeth
bite down and
swallow the poison
concluding
the closing chapter
of this misguided
maddening
e
x
i
s
t
e
n
c
e
Copyright ©
Sara Jama
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