Saturday, October 5, 2013


Let me chop myself
At the altar of your love
Peel the skin,
Pull every strand of hair,
Cut off the tongue that speaks,
The hand that writes,
Crush the mind that thinks,
This heart that feels and aches…

Now I am silent,
Bereft of myself, a shadow devoid of voice
A thousand times more convenient,
A thousand times less me, like you wanted
But love me now? Will you?
Docile like the potato you love to bite…