I strip off what’s left
just as you asked;
see here are my bones,
they rattle and clang
like teeth in a sink.
Whatever drips
is a mess on the floor;
see here is some hair,
wet and mashed
pulled from my throat.
I’m sorry for the stains
it’s all darker than I thought;
see here are my eyes,
punctured cornea
dribbling ink blots and salt.
It’s all gone
just cavities and echoes;
see here is where I end,
a vanishing fog
wishing you’d tell me to stop.
© Nancy Botta, 2020
Rusted Honey 
Beautiful.
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A powerful and honest work.
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Great poem
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This was so raw and intense. I love it… I felt every single word.
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This is where I am right exactly now. Thank you for your voice
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Yesssss this is what I’ve been looking for!! Best piece I’ve read in ages
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Leaves me feeling exposed and raw. Great work.
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Provocative. Your description effective.
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Wow. The emotional power in what seems a powerless situation is immense! I’m so happy to see you posting wonderful poetry!!
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To Receive
Despicable man might I be,
to strip bark from your tree;
Or yet worse,
ask this of you
so flippantly.
Bones, there I see
as vermilion tunnels
your pillared ivory;
porcelain beneath,
oozed in fleshy streaks.
Though hair and gore
litters your floor,
why apologize?
Stains fade in time
wherever brightest lights shine.
And stood witness to cornea punctured
long lost to past luster,
I curse the pen which marked
heart’s scrawling ache, applied sweeter
to a tear-scorched canvas: drier, flatter.
Where are you,
when heard you say:
you’re gone?
What is this hollow,
from whence bellows
cavities and echoes?
Because, when I said to strip,
what I meant to find
lie not within body
but inside your mind.
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You want Darker. ( we will the flame )
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