wrapped tightly
in rusty barbed wire
the caged heart beats
listless and erratic
an out-of-time clock…
tick-tock
cruel thorns stab
draws tainted blood
that drips poisonous and black
down constricted ribs
forged by shame and blame…
plop-plop
©️2023 jai
Image by Birgit Röhrs from Pixabay
On the Fringe of Darkness 
Ouch! It sure hurts.
spinning dark and delightful masterpieces. Grand, Jai🤍
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Thanks so much, Destiny. 💜
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There is a lot of layering in this — layers are next to godliness. The greatest things in life are layered and textured. This is both.
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Thank you, Rann. I’m agnostic, so I don’t know about godliness. 😉 But that’s the beauty of poetry—a poem can be interpreted in more than one way. 🖤
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I’m an atheist. I was brought up a mormon and even entered the priesthood in my teens, later being excommunicated from the church. I believe we’re all Gods in the making. 🖤
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It would take several hundred lives lived to come close to elevating me to god status. But, perhaps, that’s what it’s all about. You were excommunicated…hmm. I sense a story there. Maybe you’ll tell me about it sometimes. 🖤
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Lol, me too likely. 💀🖤
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