Twisted by Heather Dube
Image - Charcoal by Sylvia Slaff Langer, circa 1930s I don't blame you you had to go. You had to go like those before you. You couldn't stay any longer. You didn't trust what I could do to you or to myself because I'm twisted. I'm so twisted I get myself tangled, stranded in the rotting stench of the skeletons in my closet. Too many phantoms spilling out the cracked door, I can't shut them in. Yesterdays... when my passions became obsessions obsessions turning into addictions. when I had many mates, when I could have many babies. Babies I dissolved in my forbidding womb of hatred. Now their screams haunt me, my dreams are tainted crimson by the innocent infant breaths I extinguished. What I fear the most is not the noises in my head, but the silent whisper of my conscience. Though my addictions never seem to stop. I also fear I shall be lonely forever The one after you will be ...