Touch me not lest we forget.
This painting that we walk upon.
Brushstrokes of blood and bone.
Betrayal of a secret kind erasing what was.
Touch me not lest I forget the cold iron of your eyes.
Or the harshness of each hand bathed in frosted cobalt.
I gave up who I was while throwing myself into your arms.
And burned white-hot in your scorn.
Let me not forget.
This September The InkOwl is teaming up with a guest poet The Wasp to bring you a mix of Blood and Anxiety. These poems were inspired by life events, personal experiences, and a desire to share differing perspectives on relationships. If you’re interested in participating in future corroborations with The InkOwl please feel free to message this blog from the contact page.