Marta Owczarek

One day I woke up in my bed
I woke up at nine
I woke up all in blood
And the blood was mine

That morning I woke up in my bed
With a shattered spine
Bones splintered, flesh beaten,
And it was all mine.

There were dried drips of red
Right on my heart line
My limbs were immobile,
The colour of desert wine.

That day I woke up with a sickly shine
With a ripped out heart
And in its place, a salt mine
With poor interior design, and a single soledad pine.

I dissolved into the matress
As I woke up late, past nine
Followed the walls in unmoving pursuits
Repeating the chorus line

Why were you such a swine,
You, divine,
Why?

I woke up one day and there was no more time,
And if there was, it was no longer mine.