1 min read

"Stapled Shut"

"Stapled Shut"
The stapler wasn’t the weapon — it was my defense.

Your eyes were stapled shut,
by the thoughts you harbored —
I was a puppet to your heart,
you wanted me to follow along
as you jammed the stapler on my lips,
holding my words together.

However, the jagged turns
broke the letters as I swallowed.
I am hallowed out
from your falsities,
and the malignity in your stride —
like that of a coward
who is coiled around the blunt blade
they flung into their own heart —
hallowed out,
and as empty
and depraved
as love at first sight.

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What happens if the puppet cuts its strings?
Or the stapler jams?

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What line caught in your throat?
What image would you keep — or tear out?

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