I saw our cord, couldn’t cut. Through my center line, thick as a cable, with my spine intertwined. My necrotic heart, poisoned tree of life, sucked greedily of the torment. To the very roots, I am tied. As the noose slips down, I struggle in whispers. Knife in back, I lie, as the sun and moon dance, black blood pull, toxic like tar, choking on my tongue, suffocating the sound. Agony of a pause…if I cut, would the blood bleed red? Or spray rainbows and sunshine? The joy of release with the pain I hold so dear? If I slit open, could I untie my veins as they lash? Can the fly devour the spider? If I hacked my heart out for your platter of pleasure, would I finally be free? You lie by me so often, yet deny me to my coffin. I keep going, there’s no reason to stop, yet the cord is a tree I cannot chop. I’ll hang by the cord, as your memories pull the moon into the ocean of time. I’ll swing in darkness, as the sun sets in the desert of a heart once sublime.
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