"Ice Pick/Iron Grip"
You stabbed me
in the heart with a key
that unlocked something
I cannot explain. It welled up
and shattered inside. The ravine you cut
crusted over like the crevice of a sleeping eye.
I wish I could pick away the memory like a scab.
But I won't heal unless you crumble off
with friction. I cried as I held on
to the iron hands of time,
but they only entrusted
a rusty constriction.