Poem: Chainlink

 

Chain Links

 

poisonous words

brewed in my mouth,

stirred by a sad tongue

 

tiill drank the rage of self-hate;

and so furrows grew

on a familar soil of forearm,

plowed there by a razor.

 

fuchsias grew,

brash young plants,

creeping toward the doorstep of death;

 

and yet unsure,

soon to dry and flake,

leaving chain links

 

of scars.

=================