I can contort both my mind and heart.
Meticulous work, yes–
twists and turns, twists and turns,
contort - tort - torture.
The tortuous touch of the two,
mind and heart mashed as one,
torturous - rous - us.
That torture is red, yet we are blue,
tainted tormenting blues burned into me,
branded on my skin,
skin - kin - in.
Into my life you came with your touch
and then you ripped it from me–
that tortured touch I craved.
Your touch made me cave
and all that you’ve left with me now
is that blue card with your scent still there,
there - ere - air.
I can’t breath.
I miss your touch so much,
even if it was my downfall,
downfall - fall - all.
I gave you myself in my entirety
and in return you gave me anxiety.
Knox (17), a practicing artist and writer, enjoys writing slam poetry, poems, and songs. Knox is also passionate about cats, in the sense that they are amazing creatures.