Strung up, betrayed, and starved—
today, I am to be set ablaze.
The fire’s heat is a deceptive reprieve
from the gnawing cold.
Flames crawl up my body
like a million stinging ants.
My bones blacken, crack beneath my skin.
Muscles warp under the heat,
contorting my form into grotesque origami—
a sculpture of seared flesh.
My skin bubbles, boils, bursts,
blooming into flowers of char.
Karmic wisdom floods my mind.
I know, though I’ve lived a thousand lives,
this pain is the zenith of my punishment.
My eyes boil in their sockets.
Teeth clench—shatter.
My ears fill with roaring flames
and silent screams.
In the distance, I glimpse my Judas,
their crimson robe billowing in the wind.
I strain to whisper *why*,
but my vocal cords are charred,
strewn like the frayed strings of an old harp.
They could not hear me—
yet I know my soul carried the words
my body could not.
My last moments are spent
in the warmth of my own forsaken flesh.
The Stones Bleed Like Me 