Poetic Referendum(s) On Life

Of Our Story

(Not Parts 1-3, But Not The Last Act)
Of Our Story

I would stand next to you despite the words
flowing from your mouth, watch your ignorance
and hate close up. Harness some molecules
of that wasted energy passing over tongue through
over-worked lips. I bathe in a sea of your rejection,
knowing my true worth is not yours to judge.

The more I near where you are, I see manipulation
for what it's worth. The true nothing is not the one
you condemn, where you orate to the dogs in your
golden palace. I came to dance with my own words,
not the propaganda to shelter me from my so-called
enemy. I'll offer my hand if you want to dance. You

must think I should be afraid, feel condemned in this,
the silence you command for one who'd squeeze
your hand and lead you to the floor. You must be so
angry and tormented by something that makes you
begrudge me. I have been known faithful to those
who don't pierce my armor to crucify my hollow form.

What does the future hold? For me, my eyes gleam,
on the edge of tears for one, who doesn't truly know...
I'm not damaged; I'm not going away. You will, one day,
find a mirror in your hallway, witness a stranger lurking
in your own veins. Loose the grip on those reins, your
systematic, punitive ways. I'll be here when you fall. But,

how heavy? Only so strong, I'm not what's in your way.


4.25.20

For:
"The Soundtrack of Your Life"