Words Bleed Too

I sat before an empty page and let the words speak.

“Oh my creator!”

Erotic convulsions

Sear my uncooked melodies.

Unrecognizable.

All of them, 

Unforeseen.

“Here we are!”

Piercing giggles and 

I’m crippled.

Helpless as they plead for attention.

Suddenly I’m strangled;

Laid, white, cold. 

Release.

What shallow intimacy.

As they strip bear their maker. 

I’m engaged to archaic exasperation. 

The plight of the muffled pillow cry: 

To be rendered inept of a firmly 

Grasped blade.

It could mean anything.

It means everything.

But to them, 

I am nothing.

Here,

Only to finalize an agreement 

And suffer by a broken pen as

My blood stains parchment.

I bled.


They watched 


Me bleed for an eternity;

Until they were finished

And as I bled they scoffed from the stars 

And uttered, 

​“Words bleed, too.”