She grabs me by the shoulder
and shakes me up,
to make sweet music
from the clatter of teeth.
Her claws leave bruises,
maps of despair,
that spread, sprawl, stain
across the dark continent that is my body.
Hair ripped out, lips split open,
fingers clenched
into fists of desperation,
I claw back
at her sneering mouth,
foaming bile burning my feet,
devouring my spirit
and what’s left of my resolve.
Life and I, we were once fast friends.
Vox populi