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May 14, 2026
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if you asked
if you asked me to, I’d gouge my own eyes out,
blinding myself to the ways of man, so you’d be the only one for me
if you asked me to, I’d tear my heart out for you, pouring my blood into vases, saturating the stems of flowers to keep them living
if you asked me too, I’d tear my flesh from my bones, using my bones to build shelter and my skin as a blanket to shield you from the cold world
my soul is your sanctuary, your solace, your place to freely worship
my body is your garden, eat from the fruits so that you may sustain and survive, taste the nectars so that you may know my sweetness
— hwilliamsog, May 14, 2026
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About This Poem
Style/Type: Free verse
Review Request Direction: [This option has been removed]
Review Request Intensity: Please use care (this is a sensitive subject for me, do not critique harshly)
Editing Stage: Not actively editing
Critiques
Geezer
4 days 17 hours ago
Moribundity...
seems to be a poetic language. If we write from our emotional charge, we will write of many different things in many different ways. In the ways of the world, we discover that others feel the way that we do, "Oh, shock..." I am not all alone." Actually, I thought that this might have been a passage from a religious tract or holy book:
"My body is your garden, eat from the fruits so that you may sustain and survive, taste the nectars so that you may know my sweetness."
~ Geezer.