Flowmar’s Poems
The Small Cuts Hurt The Most
A short story and poem
Betrayal of the cruelest kind Usually happens from behind Not this time, you were quite brave Attack! From the front as I exited the cave
I should have known, yet didn’t believe Your soothing words weren’t a reprieve It was a trap, and one most vicious When I emerged rather unsuspicious
You waited in the brush for my step and my bounce With loathing and malice, your anger would trounce Upon mine a smile, as I saw your face Until with horror, I realized the chase
Run through the forest while flies hit my ears The buzzing so eager; eliciting fear The end hadn’t come yet, and I wasn’t ready Breathing so shallow, and everything sweaty
I saw a figure, and I felt relief Someone to save me, erasing the grief I cried out for help but to no avail My voice muffled by rasp — banshee’s wail
Her eyes glowed grey as she pointed to me Skin blue, mouth wide, face shining with glee Amused and excited the trees gave applause A standing ovation for murderer’s cause
The clouds crowded around to watch the event Their tears tried to warn you of future lament But wrapped insidiously in ambient rage A volcano of anger broke out of its cage
Into a field, I thought I once knew Where we used to lie among morning dew Familiar to me was the beautiful smell But sulfur replaced it, and all things from hell
Black roses I passed etched glyphs in my skin The words unspoken sourced utmost chagrin The rocks bruised my feet as I ran the path Nature was angry, and this was her wrath
The birds overhead circled around as they clearly sensed The chase would end soon, as my muscles tensed Fiery passion ignited your eyes Your revenge unrelenting, and my soul the prize
Finally, the sounds disappeared Everything was calm, as if I was cleared I scanned my surroundings and let out a sigh Evaded the killer, but it was a lie
If only I knew to look to the sky From the hand, the blade I would pry In my moment of complacent reprieve Assault by the friend that exploits the naive
I fathomed not how one that I love Could descend upon me from above A serrated, rusty blade in each of my eyes Straight to the back, what a gruesome surprise
A rock to the back of my head and I fell Asleep as I began the journey to hell The banshee was gone, the trees were quiet The birds — eerie calm, abated their riot
As I lay there, a smile emerged From you as you watched me hit the verge You walked away, the deed was done Nobody knew, and no one would shun
Two hours later I woke the first time I stared straight ahead, seeking sunshine The darkness enveloping, as dark as can be I sat up and winced at my pain — treachery
I screeched and I wretched, I needed someone My only desire is freedom from the dungeon
— — —
A time later in the healer’s tent I told her my story, from past to present Her skills advanced but tools were rudimentary She questioned my path, “Are you a sentry?”
The soothing sound of her beautiful voice Caused angels to sing, dance, and rejoice Though this was the calm before the storm I wasn’t prepared for the act next performed
She pulled out the blades, in a subdued fashion As I gripped the bedside in stoic dispassion She covered the wound, it took months to heal Instead of rust-iron, I wished it was steel
The blades left marks in the form of scraps Inside of the healed eyes, inside of the gaps Are the pieces I feel every time I blink A constant, scathing reminder, unable to think
40 years later, I lay in my bed No one around me, remember you said That you’d always be there but now I’m alone Just me and my broken eyes amid the unknown
©2021, Omar Imam. All rights reserved.