This Kind Of Hate - Poem by Tallie Pascoe
I see flames, tall and jeering, around the ruins of my joy
The loom on which my dreams are woven, fallen ashes to the floor.
Running toward an open door, through the fire, my one escape.
The slamming shrieks off roof and floor.
I am blind, I cannot see.
The darkness creeps, cold, through all of me,
Whilst the fire still burns.
And in this blindness, it scorches my flesh, rising up inside my heart.
Trapped in this maze I cannot leave, where the tall towers of my ill abide.
Knife wounds from the inside trying to tear at my skin
With rope of distrust I am tied. Thrown into this vortex of loathing.
I am standing, here alone,
High on a cliff over daggers of foam,
The ocean of my contempt.
The sourness of putrid ash, lightning electric on my tongue
Churning in my throat, dampened down by metal rain.
Acid through my veins, eyes water from the sting
Choking on my own blood when judgment comes to reign
Smoke, it smothers and I burn with fury
With the guilty verdict from peace’s jury.
Will a glacier quell my fire?
They whisper all about me. Voices in my mind
A pounding drum rings through my skull round and round my head.
Herald that all love is dead. The door is slamming still
They laugh taunting at me on this needle builded bed.
I am cursed, I am plagued
Witches chant as I rage
I am screaming
I am burning
All my life in hell
Hear me if you love me
Wake me from this spell.
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