The knifesharp
of a cold goodbye
is more than just a stabbing,
a flutterdown slice
to separate breath
from bone.
My safeword
is hidden
from you;
I have decided to keep it
for myself,
which means
I alone
hold both the shackles,
and their key.
About Catastrophe Jones
Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
