I Don’t Dare

In the night, a glance,
his hand warm, sunny,
shuddering at cold

hair, wrapping around
each finger, tactile on
purpose, comfort at

last, his tiny body run
through, spear still
stuck in place, reminds

him of the fiction, of
youth, the folly of a
trap, spinning affront

static lies dynamic, they
twist out of control, like
a whizzing BB into a

belly, a bruise dusted
with blood, the tears
salty, fucking asshole,

fear and anger and heat,
eyes burning: ammonia,
fragile ego lanced dry,

pus oozes staccato, this
darkness sits in malice,
tipped tongue acrid lies,

the freedom he felt only
in dreams, a prisoner of
a short-circuited patron,

taxing the poor until a
certain death, hands now
wounded by misleading

love, torrid and fatuous,
you lived for your own
purpose, let him die a

death of honor, suck your
teeth down your throat,
cancer tackles troubled foe

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~ by Shawn M. Young on March 19, 2019.

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