My body drinks in the harsh cold of winter 
Setting my bones on fire

Hands ball up into blotched white fists 
Suddenly and viciously 
A message travels down
My over over sensitive nerves

Sending fingers shooting out

Dead straight

Rigor morticed with pain

Liquid churns hot in my spasming bowels 
Limp sprinting to the bathroom

I watch through open legs

As blood drips into the toilet bowl

A crimson red rose blooms

Then slowly dissolves

I am a clockwork toy

Wound too tight

The obsessions I tidied away

Are coming out of their boxes

Quicker than a child’s presents at Christmas


  • by Zara Carpenter

United Kingdom