women. writers.

Poetry: "Surge" by Erica Curtis

Digging digits into this skin
I claw in an effort to feel
A surge you once produced in me
But was it ever truly real?

So ravenous is this hunger
On you I have to feed
The scratches from the nails on my covering
Where body and soul do bleed

The rosy hue betrays it's own name
There is nothing here by that description
Blood has become my only release
And you are the great addiction

Your immunity beguiles me
And I am humbled by your indifference
I have become your receptacle
To myself I no longer make sense

I wonder how you never surrender
Living in an unaffected land
Concede to this honest love
For the hour glass eventually runs out of sand

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