Out loud in the dark you’re a beast

Raging against a mental cell, a

Carnivore slithering into blue

Hematic wells, drinking of me like

A parasite, an unwanted child brutally

Armoured.  I cannot afford the price

Of disbelief, eyes closed, I hope love

Will come in time to save,  if indeed

Anything of me still remains


Slip away when your murder is

Traceless and there is no DNA

Left to tell, only a husk, faintly

Human. My God she could have

Been anyone except me, I’d never

Let a man strip my neurons apart

With his teeth, masticate the very

Belief upon which I am founded

I am strong, intelligent, different

These scars bare no disfigurement

Accidents with a plausible excuse


Yet above her I stand adrift in a

Shapeless mourning, how pitiful

That smile when weighed upon

By the horror of those unblinking

Eyes and that face that I have applied

With such care, swollen beyond

Repair, my face as I have abhorred

It, my dishonest face in denial, broken


this is fictional


41 thoughts on “Painting Juliette

    1. I think anyone would be scared in a situation like that, a situation like that is scary and I’d like to think I would do the right thing but I can’t know unless I was in that situation (hugs)

  1. I cannot afford the price Of disbelief, eyes closed, I hope love
    Will come in time to save…i dont think any of us can afford to live with eyes closed…and we can all be the love as well..and there is def heart in those closing lines as well in wanting to repair your face…

  2. Yours are the most powerful works I have come across here. It overpowers my senses, leaves me in disarray, takes me to a ride even I am afraid of taking. it speaks a huge of volume of your personal pains I believe, and it also renders enough room for empathy. I could feel the pain oozing out of your poetry, I could feel its nature. Fallen in love with your poetry. Keep it going.!!

  3. Yes, love can come in time to save … with an open heart, anything is possible. There is some hope in your poem … a tiny window in the midst of despair, but perhaps big enough to let belief in oneself get through 🙂

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