- Wound -

A poem that I created for a poetry prompt.

The open wound bruising, warm red hemoglobin pooling, clambering the crag-like ridges of muscle and arteries. Every beat a seering lash upon my ribcage.
I scream, my lungs a lake of fire.
I flood tears that puddle underneath me.
But mostly, I wonder...
How could love cause this much pain?

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

Actually, because we allow it to.