I carved of him a talisman, a charm to ward off loneliness
with this act mistakenly, more power did I give to him
without his permission!
without his permission!
let me pluck a twisted rib from his tangled skeleton
I would build a life of this, but mother gifts "the catalyst"
without my permission!
without my permission!
we build our lives with stories
I will keep telling this one
until it stops the stinging
hot flush across my skin
this kicking in my stomach
it will creep up and take me
loosed pieces lost are catching
in
my
throat
the talisman, he spoke to me, "your every syllable is poetry"
I fell upon the sword, my pen, and with each word, I fell again
every gift is a curse!
every gift is a curse!
he drew a line, I crossed it
it widened to a crack
he dug a chasm from it
now there's no turning back
"you are a thing I've conjured!
I'll turn you back to clay!
return to me I'll save you
from
this
fate"