Madam Seamstress

Madam Seamstress

“Sew the seams,” the seamstress said
“His lies are fine with lips of red
Shiny scissors and thickened thread
And he shall soon be dead”

The needle pierced into my flesh
“Draw the blood”,  the taste was fresh
She wove my lips, her humble mesh
I was spinning in my head

“Weave the eyes to lock them shut
He sees no poverty but feels the cut”
Her scissors traced around my chest
And I vomited out the seams

“Snip the ears, they have to go
He couldn’t hear the orphans’ woe”
I fainted sitting, bound by rope
But she shook me from my dream

“TEAR the heart that couldn’t beat
And CUT the feet that walked on cleats
SLICE the throat that up and choked
When they asked him for some food”

I couldn’t yell, the pain was hell
On every mistake I was forced to dwell
My heart was pulled, my head then fell
And thus our story concludes

They call her Madam Seamstress
She sews men, dusk till dawn
With needle, thread, and distress
She will mend you of your wrong