Fridays in Verse: Hostage

For today's very late Fridays in Verse, a poem I wrote in 2007.  Just some fun late-teenage angst for old time's sake, eh?  Ha.

Hostage held is my heart by an iron grip
And a jailor cruel in thoughtless indecision,
By whose various attentions I make my mood’s revision
As between fatal ecstasy and fatality I slip.
For each silent hour, in the flesh a burning rip
And each moment near, a patched incision—
Add a bruise for each skin’s inadvertent collision
And each lasting stare, a heartbeat’s skip.
On these torments, I feast, every wound, I devour,
With a masochist’s palate I sample emotion,
Gorging heart and self on agony I await the hour
When drunk on my blood his courage will flower
Fit to swiftly make known his like devotion
Or release my starving heart from his fickle power. 

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