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Broken

Cure me, fix me, fuck me.
The sweet perversion of your kiss on my bruised lips.
As if you were trying to take away the scars that burn my heart.
My hero, my saviour, yeah right.

Any day now that dying pain in my stomach will change into loving hope.
Any day now his touch will feel good on my cool skin.
Someday soon I might love again.
Who am I kidding?

His breath as a small hiss in my ear.
A snake that crawls under my skin.
Thrusts himself inside my flesh like the stinger of a scorpion.
This will feel good I tell myself.
This is good.

One single tear that collapses on my pillow as the warmth of his body fades away.
His back turned towards me, fast asleep as I plunge the dagger between his shoulder blades.
He doesn’t make a sound.
My hero, my saviour, yeah right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is a very personal poem. It took me about a year to write because of the heavy load in it. It is not about one particular person but more a combination of several persons that once were a part of my life.

I finally finished it in September 2011. I don’t know why but it is very difficult for me to publish this.

I hope you liked it,

M.

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