Whisper Of The Dismembered Poem by Soren Valentine

Whispers creep like ants on my skin,
shaking from a past unremembered.
They rise from their tombs etched in sin,
Visions of bodies dismembered.

Their tongues set my ears ablaze,
I light this forest on fire
so each bloody limb can be erased
from pointing their fingers at this liar.

They threaten me, knowing my secrets,
Stripping off my defenses,
forming into my tourniquet,
This is life under false pretenses.