You Can Scream

You. Stamped fragile,
shattered into a thousand shards.
Lipstick left on the collarbone
looked too much like blood.
Ribs wrapped in silk,
suffocated the lungs beneath.

I bleed when you breathe!

Creeping in the night,
forever in suspension.
Padlocks over your cunt.
Men with bolt cutters.

A stolen breath... Excitement?
No, more like fear.

Milk colored cheeks,
the blood is somewhere else.
Stuck stagnant in the heart.
You taste sour…
Your own, or is it his?
Uncertainty chokes.
Dirt fills in your ribs.
Your chest rising too quickly;
Your voice stuck there.

Emptiness escapes in moans,
but there is too much to purge.
Maybe, maybe, maybe with
eyes sauntered shut, you can
escape. There are dried streams staining
your cheek. What is your purpose?