Why Is Your Writing So Violent | A Poem by Francesca Leone

I cut your name out of my mouth
your touch out of my flesh

now you look at me in horror
and disbelief

as I put my hand in the fire
and feel nothing

as I bite into that apple
and taste my sin

as I stitch my own shrieking head
to the shield

you ask me:
what did you do to yourself

honey, I did what I always do
I did what I had to do.