A Growing Suicide

by Melis Ozturk

decide to kill your own skin
shells of bones
a scratched cross
between your breasts
cannot keep you safe
light cannot get inside you
you are too full of
dark tones
darker undertones
they strike pitch black
unscrubbed
filthy like a rat's belly
you are full of
blurry dreams
dreams with a flat ring
echoless tunes
hold hands with
children who cannot smile
a flower couldn’t grow
in your stomach
if it tried
I promised to take care of you
it would’ve been my pleasure
yet you
bleakly opposed