Stitch by Clinton de Wee

Clinton de Wee | November 9th, 2011 | poetry | No Comments


Captured in claustrophobia
Surrounded by the suffocation of
Pain crawling
To my bed
Like crippled men
On crutches
At night
As dead bodies screams for
A place to sleep
A place to live
A place like me

Hungry like spirits from
The underworld
Thick as the
cummed sperm of a virgin
towards the call of gravity
as ghosts hunger
for the living part
of my soul

Stitch me
to the hand of God
don’t let me loose myself
stitch the clocks as you
stitch the earth
to me feet
let me grip solid ground

Stitch against my nightmares
Stitch my thoughts
Stitch my virginity
Stitch my mouth that screams
In my soul
Stitch my broken spirit
Stitch me whole!

Stitch my pain from my brain
Stitch the sound of my voice to silence
Stitch my fears to the grave
Stitch me to the world
Where the itch no longer
Requires attention
Stitch me to peace.

Poet Bio

Arts student at UWC

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