View from a Hill

I'll stop sewing up my mouth
With the crosshatched poison thread,
Leaking ink between my teeth,
When you stop tattooing over the words
You really want to say,
Creating illustrations on your face –
Drawn up little fantasies
Of platitude.

My life is sharp enough
To blunt your knife
And I wish you'd just listen
To my screams.

Unpick the barbed wire seams
Between my lips
And I will give you a new face
Upon which to write your truths.

We'll wash away your illustrations
With the rain –
Watch the garish colours run,
Drain the poison from your skin,
Decimate every sin and
Watch you smile again.

Life is too short to tell lies.