The Map to Death
The fermented smell on your breath
makes me dizzy; it hangs in the air as
decay hangs to a fallen oak; rank but
mellow. Your hand held my wrist tightly;
I felt the bruise beginning and remembered
the look of my battered body and the snap
of your belt buckle on my back in the past.
You beat upon my head and pushed my
head into the hard red dirt at the side of
the road, standing over me in silence; I
could see my blood drying upon your shirt.
When I woke, I was in a basement, it was
dark and dank; spider webs dangled and
drooped from the rafters, mildew covered
everything, it stank, I hugged my battered
body and prayed for my life.
There was no sleep; rats moved about in
and out of the chinks in the dark, mildew
crawled up concrete walls like dark tropical
snakes. Still I would not give up life.
I thought about feelings, I feel my fate which
is laced with fear; a dance travels through my
head the music traveling from ear to ear.
I think of those I love, of the people in my life…
which are you? You walk softly upon the ground,
I walk beside you learning as I go.
The floor is the red dirt of the country, worms
live there crawling over me like climbing a winding
stairs; I sleep and wake with no knowledge of time.
Does God have a plan for me, will the door open
and the air bring fresh life; have I learned my lesson,
will I know where to go.
My body is shaking now, my fear falls away, I will soon
be gone; my hair hangs limp damp tendrils fall around
my bruised and bleeding face, I have nowhere to go.
Outside I hear the song of a wren, she trembles and
I know she is gathering twigs; I want to sing with her;
the leaves whisk across the lawn and I can smell the
Within the depths of my soul, I can taste the clear
water below the house where we live; I can see the
wounds with the last light of day.
If only I could return to yesterday, but that is not
possible for tomorrow, you will be standing over my
damp grave and speak words filled with lies to those
who are unaware. I have no rights.
I was once a lovely woman even the birds sighed
when I passed by, I tried to live a life of virtue, but
even God cannot save me now.
You will stroke my bruised chin and say you are
sorry while you stand beside another with perfect
white skin; you will hold her hand and tell her that
she is pretty.
Her full lips fit upon yours with perfection, she will
quiver at your touch; but with you, she will never
know freedom; her life will seem like an eternity, her
bones will grow old living with your wanton ways
You are a man, a beast, you love, you hate; your mate
will be your friend before becoming your foe, she will
see your darkness and your light.
You will take away her light and bring her darkness to
you place of slaughter, her eyes will begin to see; she
will hear my weeping from the grave as she is imprisoned
within our serpents den.
She will know madness and despair; she will die under a
ragged moon and it will be a tearless night for you, the
You will bury her in the dark damp earth, we will share
our roadbed of dirt, and stone until you find another to
join us in the ravines of your eternity.