shrestha singh
Branded
It’s initiation day.
The scintillating fire mesmerizes
The members huddle around these tantalizing embers
We band of broken, branded brothers and sisters
“For he who sheds his blood with me…”
The gang leader angers an iron rod by twirling it loosely in the fire
Flirting with the sparks, the wand seems to make magic
I already know, by the way the end of the rod lovingly fondles the fire,
That the love it shows my forearm will be inconceivable
Wait –
Throaty, inhuman wailing erupts,
From my mouth? Cannot be…
Turns into
Blubbering, shrieks
Turns into
Weeping, whimpering
Turns into
Begging.
I was mistaken in thinking the end of the metal's kiss would provide relief
Its lips peel back from corrupted, non-skin, stealing some of the crisped meat as they part
I bite down, sharp gasp
Air forces its way in,
Floods through windows in my clenched teeth
The harsh air around the wound attacks its damaged fibers
Like frosted wind pinching pneumonic lungs
The cells are no longer shocked by the severity of the assault
They are now simply screeching
In shattering white agony
Blinded, they bellow and purge
And the opening near my wrist releases its contents
A dark sunset of fluids flow forth
And then the smell
My nostrils binge on the acrid smell of
Blood and burning flesh
But my stomach demands to heave and
Reject it all
The putrid stench clouds my brain, which was
Already fogged by the pain receptors’ uproar
Already mourning the fated skin cells, the ambushed warriors
Panicked,
My brain frantically prioritizes the systems
And cuts some loose
Soon,
My stomach does heave
Its spilled contents mix with the muddy red dripping from my arm
Soon,
The tears overwhelm their crevices, and escape my eyes’ brims
And join the garbled pool on the ground
Without them, my vision is no longer blurred and, bent over, post-retch,
I see it.
Swirled painting before me
Concrete lapping up all that my body has thrown overboard
And then I see IT.
Where the metallic leech had feasted
A galaxy of colours swarm its putrefying boarders and
The center festers menacingly,
Sizzles, audibly sizzles,
Bubbles up in rage, and belches up more slime
Monstrous. Grotesque.
I fear this infuriated wound will lash out at me
I cannot look at this -
This repugnant perversion of delicate tissue
I heave again, nothing left
My body begins to shut down,
A numbness beckons me,
Engulfs me
I am branded.