The heart of my soul
spewed gusts of red.
Shards sliced through numbness,
leaving me all alone in a field of sorrow.
Black Dahlia’s shot angrily from the ground,
wrapping its stems around my bruised skin.
I kicked and flailed, hollered and wailed,
their sickening breath taunting me.
With my feet shackled to the ground,
and my hands raw from tightness,
I cried and screamed, hurt and breathed,
pain scampering against exposed epidermis.
As a single tear fell from my eye,
I prayed to god that he unclasp the stems,
and save me in a cursory manner
from the alienation of my weeping.
Yet, my hollers were left unheard,
And my cries left unnoticed.
The Black Dahlias continued to dry up my pain as fuel,
Their sharp leaves tearing away at any ounce of hope.
Please, I whispered,
Please someone come rescue me,
For I cannot hold on any longer.
My faith is starting to slip away.
The only sound I received was the sound of
everything I loved getting ripped away.