MAYHEM - Issue Four
Because You’re Worth It
You’re worth it. Worth kicked-in knees and broken back. Worth white corridors and black boots; worth a cage and no oxygen. Worth torn clothes, ripped body, slashed mind. You’re worth that one blanket.
Five years, ten years, the black cap you should know you’re worth it.
No tears, no smiles, no face, peel back the skin – no skull. You burn that face with gasoline, you douse those eyes in bleach. It’s not blind, it threw the scales away, it holds the sword and it fucks you up, because you’re worth it.
Try to speak; open your mouth, clutch vocal chords and play tug of war. Ding ding, you lose, scalpel and gloves drip red, and you know why – because you’re worth it.
Wrists out now, back you go. To blood-filled corridors, decaying hands, back down. You kiss the boots or they kiss you because they know you’re worth it.
The camera is on, why won’t you speak? Unwrap the bandages it’s your striptease. No chink, no bruise, no mark at all. Some glue, some glitter, an airbrush, they’ll make you shine because you’re worth it.
Lights go out and bed for all, not you though because you’re worth it. You’re worth the day, the bright - no night. Cameras go out and your light’s glued on, shutters come down – bolted in place because you’re worth it.
Pick a sheet bend, a half hitch; pick a noose. You’ve chosen right; they all know you’re worth it. Unless you agree to kneel now. Or would you prefer the row: five men, three words, the iron rain. No answer, oh well they’ll choose for you.
The shout, the thunk, the spade, the pit. No marble, no words, no rest, no peace and you know why, because you’re worth shit.