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beating
January 7, 2024
i still remember the orange
floors that we touched with
muddy leather;
a place of permeating suffocation,
walls that tickled the rhythm
of black markers & red pens
i still remember when i locked
the door & touched ur face;
when gold met my skin & not flesh,
when honey drenched over our throats;
when the stars danced upon my lips
i still remember your arm around me,
like a snake writhing over a tree branch,
its steady yet venomous gait evident.
murder on its heels, its enticing teeth
plunged through my heart,
& i dont know whether
it is beating or being beaten
© Anonymous
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This poem reflects my emotions concerning my former boyfriend. Our relationship was deemed inappropriate, forbidden by societal standards, and everyone advised against it, but I found myself unable to resist. Despite the warnings, my love for him prevailed. Deep down, I was aware that he would eventually cause me pain, yet I couldn't distance myself. This poem emerged from the aftermath of our initial kiss.