stitches

groping in the dark for an unborn time

fumbling in the stitches for words

thirsty for recognition

ousted just days before rehearsal

bleeding down the edges

but I won't stop

won't give up or go berzerk

over common pain

my gloves fight for their share of my skin

the warmth invades then hides out from within

thirsty for recognition

ousted just days before rehearsal

my throat is kind of croaky

but I won't flop

i hear you screaming murder

but I won't stop

won't give up or be coward

over lifelessness

my paws beg for their share of perspiration

my claws cry for the scars drawing incisions

it's too early

what can I say it's too early

my answers beg reassurance

I do see but they seem to make no sense

said it's too f****n early

shut the f**k up it won't be till evening

Author's Note

there was a time when I was held together by wire. It felt like fuck. then I lost the wire. The feeling got worse. so I made myself believe that I was still covered in stitches. that I don't have the strength to hold myself together without incisions