The Suture

psychological-horroridentitytrauma-bonddark-poetrybody-horrorsilence

You liked me best when I was quiet,
so I took a needle and coarse thread to my own lips.

I stitched them shut until the bleeding stopped.

Years later, when you begged me to speak,
I pulled the thread with my bare hands —
and tore my own jaw in half
just to say your name.


psychological-horroridentitytrauma-bonddark-poetrybody-horrorsilence