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you pried me open
like an old wound.
skintight and sewn shut,
you dug your fingers in
and r i p p e d
my scars like
seams, like
stitches.
you exposed my bones,
flayed my veins,
burrowed inside
and made yourself
at home in my
exsanguination.
you left me
curled up and
gushing blood;
knowing
all the stitches
in the world will
never be enough
to reverse the ruin.
you knew exactly
what you were doing…
didn’t you?
From my newest poetry collection, CARNAGE. Available now on Amazon.
Click here.
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