Weapon

 

You hold your heart

like a weapon,

always ready

to shoot me down

when im flying high.

You send me soaring

before firing

a bullet that

splits me

in two.

 

You hold your love

like a blade,

ready to cut me

down to size,

put me in my place.

A grave of discarded roses,

their thorns piercing

this carcass of mine

like the lies you spoke

with smiling eyes.

 

You machine gun

my heart with misery.

You tear at my organs

with talon-like lines.

You drown out my screams

with chainsaw engine drone.

My moans lost

to the earth and stones.

You wear me down

with razorblade smiles,

cutting away at my skin

until I’m bone thin,

then you turn up

the torture dials.

Screeching and whirling,

I feel my heartbeat fading.

Then you lift up the remains

to begin again.