Your touch burned

My skin fire-branded

Scalded bright crimson

Your kisses needles

Sharp stinging stamps

Tattooing my body

Your Midas love

Turned my heart to gold

X marked the spot.

When you were done with me

You set yourself free

To make your mark elsewhere

But upon departure

You turned treasure hunter

Following the map

You traced upon my surface.

Your barbed words

Sliced open old scars

Bleeding me dry

Dagger-eyed contempt

Plunged into my body

Carving along inked lines

Treasure chest excavated

Gouging out my aurous heart

Where X marked the spot.

Emma H, age 26, 06/04/2017

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s