Shredded skin burns
Of what remains
At the site where
Your claws ripped
Through my gut
I have a sickness
In my stomach
A constriction of air
To my lungs
An excruciating ache
In my four chambers
An icy chill
Freezing my bones
A tug-o-war with tears
Between my head and my heart
A local anaesthetic
To numb me from this pain
Time to repair and heal
Acknowledge the wound
You’ve inflicted into my soul
Debbie Gravett © 2017.06.29
via Daily Prompt: Local
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