VISE OF PAIN

she wears pain like a coat
an envelope
she sheds it
occasionally
like a snakeskin
molting on the ground

permanent suffering
stamped
into the rusted wood
of her memory
lavish cold embers
of hurt
smoldering
sometimes
surfacing for oxygen

one time
there was a motorist
absurd
sing-shouting pop songs
at noone
for an instant
she lit up
one moment of joy
but the vise clamped down
in an instant
a heartbeat

mother dementia
father absentia
abuse engineered
for a maximum effect
her heart is punctured
skewered and pierced
all she ever wanted
was to be loved

a dead exit sign
hovers
roundabout
the curving frame of her body
she bends slowly
breathing in the anguish
passion pouring
from her skin

I lay beside her
smoothing out
the distortions of her tension
I slowly caress her
erasing the toxins
introduced by the witch

basking in the warmth
of her body
I will it to be me
I want to replace her
posthaste
inside the vise of pain