First Degree

This emptiness
this agonizing ache
I cannot manage
to rid myself of
keeps it hand
firmly planted on
my shoulder
always there to
remind me of
every knife you twisted
deeper and deeper into
my spine
turning my mind
into a slab of paralyzed matter,
where it is cold and numb
and dead
and the worms have
already begun to make
their homes.
And I still cannot
fathom why I
needed to be stabbed
at all.


Author: Catherine Caruso

Writer of words. Lover of dogs.

29 thoughts on “First Degree”

  1. I’ve had a few friends (X-friends) like this. Ten years later, I’m still bewildered as to why? Got to cut them out of your life, and start the healing anyway 🙂

  2. Painful truth
    We are prey to the thousand shocks flesh is heir to
    Masochism may be a logical acceptance of our miracle

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