The Devil’s bind

The consequence we are not to understand

until it is much too late

oh how we made the devil’s bind

oh how we planted devil’s vines

tightened round our throat

those chains which break in dues of pain

or drag us through eternity forever

(the day you plant the seed is not

the day you eat the fruit

as the vine had long to grow

before it reached your throat)

believe me

my mercy is not self-sacrificial

I am the woman who lets men fall to their fate


(you are not owed grace

if in your ignorance and haze

you reached unto others to disgrace)


I dwell in every woman who guards herself

with a hundred knives in each hand


I am the feral blade which strikes

from the stifling darkness impenetrable


I am the vine which chokes you

until you pay the pain that’s due.

The best we can hope for is utter collapse


which frees us for a second chance.