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The Pledge (the 24th Violent Verse of 2010)


I followed you.

Your footprints led me here, maps that moved ahead of the bullet, before the blade, the knuckle and the belt.

You are fading.

I followed you in the fog of affection, my tears washing away the blood printed by your feet.

Your heart thumped a prayer, a plea for now, for immediacy. You clasped your nameless hands and called for an end to the ache, an end to the widening bruise that stands inside you, boots of steel, fists of rage and your skin scraped away. At your grave I’ll lay a wreath of flowers made from my own flesh and vow to you, no more. An end to angers teeth upon your love, I pledge.


© 2010 by mark prime










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