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Rid of Me

By E. O'Riley

I never meant it to happen again—

my heart in my hand, handed back in surprise.

Instead of my mark, I’ve left quite a stain.

My abandoned womb gives birth to this pain—

a crusted reminder left on my thigh.

I never meant it to happen again.

My mother’s warning runs through my brain.

You’ll be the author of your own demise.

Instead of my mark, I’ve left quite a stain.

Pleas and overtures are met with disdain—

ashes coat my pupils and leave me blind.

I never meant it to happen again.

What his absence does I couldn’t explain.

I’ll leave that for the clever to surmise.

Instead of my mark, I’ve left quite a stain.

The sharpened steel, like Moses, splits the vein

and the Red Sea parts. No time for goodbyes.

I never meant it to happen again.

Instead of my mark, I’ve left quite a stain.