491

I am plagued

and shamed to walk here,

as long as it takes

to shake from dust and fire,

my grief is a badge,

my fist a signal of violence,

in madness

that sinks and spirals

out of control,

how insipid your faces,

wrinkles stuck forever,

frank and thoughtless you smile,

parlance and pertinence a culling,

shadows of the controller,

“his” hand, a dripping

sack of feted blood,

quote each one wrong,

hang the placard on your walls,

adjunct numbers stuck in absentia,

but my symphony of hatred

doesn’t despise,

it alone is the call that defines me,

jealous sight, you said yourself,

calls me names forthright,

a nasty craggy maniac,

furrowed brows and bland tongues,

every word a forgetful temptation,

each memory a fever dream,

I wish to forget it all,

but tonight I will,

the speed in which I live,

this bleed will heal and congeal,

and the dried scab that remains,

will fall into the waste bin,

and I will leave it there,

for you to watch over

and remember

Advertisements

~ by Shawn M. Young on March 1, 2019.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

 
%d bloggers like this: