Hand In My Blood Poem by Zyw Zywa

I'm stuck, how did I get here?

How do I get out, who will help me
accompany me, if need be just
in the spirit, to the Golden Gate
with free birds in the glimpse
of the light between its doors?

Who feels my love tugging
at the nets that connect us?

Who will wash the hard crusts
from my body, kiss my wounds
into flowers as the most beautiful
dress I ever wore, who will
put his hand in my blood

as a heart?