The Needle and the Vein

The Needle and the Vein

Cold steel bites through velvet skin,
Threads that pull the darkness in,
Stitch by stitch the curse takes hold,
Binding flesh with threads of mold.

Bleeding yarn and rusted pins,
Sewing sins to cover sins,
Patchwork heart that beats off-key,
Bound to pain and misery.

Thread the needle, pierce the vein,
Sew the hurt and knot the pain,
Flesh and fabric, curse entwined,
Life unravels, soul confined.

Fingers tremble, thread entwines,
Sutures weave through twisted spines,
Seamstress hums with hollow breath,
Crafting art from living death.

Tattered dolls with eyes that weep,
Cloth and bone in restless sleep,
Stitched together, torn apart,
Frayed existence, ruptured heart.

Cut the string and let me fall,
Into silence, end it all,
But the thread regrows like vines,
Winding through my shattered lines.

Thread the needle, pierce the vein,
Sew the hurt and knot the pain,
Flesh and fabric, curse entwined,
Life unravels, soul confined.

When the final stitch is tied,
And the needle’s rusted, cast aside,
My soul will hang on broken thread,
A tapestry of the living dead.