you didn’t figure
my short leash
into the picture
my shackle sores
I love to live to endure
rope lines
I’m embroidered
it is the texture
you’ve grown
so fond of
as delirious as
I am from suspension
my submission
to a grander
commission
my raw knees
from crawling
every morning
a twisted tongue
from begging
a relentless scissor
by hazing
from pledging
to the desolate revelry
my soul tearing
bearing spree
that jerks me
by the collar
when I grow weak
and damn,
did you weaken me…
– B. Brown
(image courtesy of Pinterest)
Very nice
Brilliant!
The word play and imagery is stunning!
Thank you! 😀