Momentum keeps her arms close,
Spinning faster than tornado
In a storm drenched with loneliness.
Her tears cannot be seen,
They fly away like her cries,
Seeking desperately for love.
She’s wound tighter than t op,
Turning clockwise, ne’er ceasing,
Control has flown out the door.
She sees crystal clear though the debris,
Terrifying nightmares, past and present,
Predilections beyond the future.
The surface façade was torn away,
The winds wrested it away like a greedy dragon
Baring its fangs, glowing orange in the firelight.
Her pyre goes up like tinder from the dragon’s breath,
The flames tickle her feet and start to rise,
Erasing the wind but not her spinning.
She starts to see red,
Her eyes bleed crimson,
Her hands fly to her face
As she screams in pain and misery
But she finds no solace in her own flesh.
Her mouth gapes open,
Time is suspended in this moment,
The shock of her once-beautiful hands
Is too great to take in in a moment.
A crimson desert has replaced her appendages,
Fissures of ugliness, boils of wet infection,
Grow and deepen and burst painfully.
There is no pain to describe this,
It is worse than childbirth with no meds.
Her hands shake and she whimpers
As her salty tears burn her own skin.
Her top layers of flesh tear away,
Leaving red, oozing, raw skin behind.
Delusional, hysterical screams shock her
Back to a desolate reality, her own.
The humiliation of others’ flinching away,
The heartbreak of not being able to rub a baby’s back
The agony of every waking moment,
Every sleeping moment,
Is not something you, the reader, can relate to.