Runcible Spoon

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To Whom It May Concern


Dear blank space, guide me

through the exquisite horrors

unfolding before me like a bloodied rag.

Take me by the trembling hand

on this night of nights,

that I may weep as one without tears.

Help me to clasp the asp of persecution

to my shuddering breast.

Make it so I cannot hear

the screaming skulls in the shrieking pit

as I walk the path of the hurting hand.

O breaker of bones and minds,

lead me beyond the bruises and embarrassments

on this glorious and rosy-fingered dawn,

the sun rising like a wizened eye,

like a wound on the cheek of morning.