Broken skin

 Sick with fear, I lie

As each organ is plucked from my body.

My ribs - tied with rope.

Bound and silenced, I struggle to breathe,

As each day pushes me back down beneath the surface.

Blood stained bandages hold my frame together,

Each cut - a reminder of how little I wanted to be me.

Without my scars, I am not whole.

Without my stitches, I fall apart.

These broken pieces are all I have.