damage

I remember damage

not in my mind’s eye but in my bones

in the cracks of my soul

and the vibration of my body

as the pieces of my heart break.

I feel damage

but I dare not speak it’s name

or recall it’s figure;

rather the pressure of it’s fingers linger

from it’s grip around my neck

and my throat aches

from the scratch of screams unheard

when I speak of the damage.

And though I wish to open my eyes

and reveal this nightmare’s face,

my eyelids contract

and my muscles tense

holding onto the only damage it can take.

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