pulled

i remember the days when i carried poetry in my wallet like
a compass to lead me home.

but those days are gone.
for now i carry a locket of my own hair instead.
dead and tormented locks delicately wrapped and clipped with the ever most care,
there laid in a gentle coffin i prepared as a reminder of what it felt like the time you ripped them right out of my head taking with them all the goodness in the world
in a moments slaughter.

but slowly now i've come back to the words i so dearly missed.
the words that were always clearly going to bring me back to this bliss, this heaven on earth, my voice.
so i tattooed these words onto my soul so i'd never forget the heart you stole when you sank your fingers into my head and pulled as hard as you could.
cheers, darling.