Artwork by Suzanne Macpherson (Zuska)
Written Response by Jenny Semmler

I have died on the crucifix of your lies,
Bled out, pale, cold,
Broken and abandoned.
The stink of death clings.
That acrid bile,
That yeasty cheesy staleness
Cannot be washed away.
Search for my soul.
Hold up a mirror to my face.
Who am I?
I have passed through the veil of darkness.
I float, forever hovering over my corpse.
The tears of a lifetime
The summer of sadness,
Wraithlike and waifen,
Threaded with anger,
Bolted and woven
Into my shroud.
Do not open the faucet
Or we will all drown.
Go ahead!
Cut me as deep as you like.
Pin me like a butterfly
Opened for inspection.
I can feel no pain.
The dark alleys and lonely journeys –
My blood is pooled.
My heart is stilled,
Nestled within
This blue cadaver.
Reach in your hand.
Grasp your scalpel
And set my heart free.

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