By Alice Ketley
I awake from my complacent sleep,
tied down amongst the wet dirt.
My eyes slowly escape their bone cave.
Centipedes mistake my flesh for life,
I writhe with them in the search.
A face floats over me,
heavy with familiarity.
This envious air cushions you,
whilst suffocating me.
Your eyes forever petrified
from this merciful torture.
You beg me to smooth the edges.
I give you a smile.
I give you a smile,
venom pushing through my tight teeth,
cascading down my soft cheek,
impregnating the soil,
and in turn ending everything
that ever relied upon it.
But you won’t notice,
or you just won’t mind.
I can hear myself calling for you
to spit the remedy down
my thin, slippery throat.
And then I realise, you love this
muddied silt slit.
Kill this truth,
lie through that one lucky tooth,
tongue like a wind chime.
Your wrangled wrists and pickled fingertips
tie me tighter.
I wish to sink deeper.