Resurrect Me

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I died, choking on the silent syllables

gurgling I struggled to survive the onslaught

of bile from my belly as my ears burned.

The churning spasms drowning out sound

as if hoping to save me from what I heard.

It’s too late, you have already murdered me

your words small and sharp like a razor

slicing through my my tendons and sinews

leaving me helpless, unable even to blink

as your lips open hysterically wide, cavernous

and the words tumble out like sentences.

Prison sentences sundering my freedom

and chaining my heart to a memory jail.

Resurrect me, I beg you. My ears bleed

but still I am listening for your voice

I could be Lazarus if only you would speak.

It’s cold and lonely in the grave alone

so call my name and summon me forth.

I see it in your eyes that you love me still

resurrect me, for I am not yours to kill

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One thought on “Resurrect Me

  1. This is a great piece. The images are vivid, and you feel the desperation. I love the tensions in this piece, the numb shock and the physical pain, the plea to be resurrected, the death and the defiance of “I am not your to kill”. Fantastic, all around.

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