abyssnight | vulturebody | a self-cradling poem

the worst things that have been conveyed to me

happened without a single word


the most harmful things that moulded me

slithered into me through long-lasting subtlety


I blanketed the ground around you with eggshells

a red-flagged cemetery


I taught myself how to appear absent

I expected him to not harass the dead


a key gave me the power to protect myself


your breath crawling through the cracks

apologising with your fists clenched


nothing good would happen

when you got off the couch


invisible wounds are easy to gaslight

and talk into oblivion

Photo by Alex Conchillos on Pexels.com

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