To the Artist's Page To our home page
To Dallas Spires's previous piece To Dallas Spires's next piece
My New Life
This is how it begins,
semen spilled on the hardwood floor,
left there for the roaches,
crawling between cobwebs
that cover their hiding places.
My body aches as I shrug off
the polish of last night’s sweat,
my hard sleep. I pull aside smoke-
stale curtains that sift dust.
My fingers are crusted with blood.
At the bathroom sink, I turn the cold
knob, and liquid rust pours out.
In the mirror, flesh,
scarred and bruised. And then
the image flutters on the glass:
They came in a rush of whispers--
Shadows with quick, numbing words--
tore open the twilight to
darkness that shrouded my eyes.
They raped me, razored
Their language into
my arms and chest,
and left me there,
shedding my life.
To the top of this page