Might makes right

Make no mistake– 

I am petrified.

The wires around me,

Electrified.

The cruellest of men

Broker lives to smite–

And it's no news to me,

Might makes right.

I water my flowers,

I dust the shelves,

As my history books

All repeat themselves.

I pour my coffee,

I take a sip–

A touch of crimson

On my lip.

The grip grows tighter around my throat

As I cough out the prayers and poems I wrote. 

I bargain, I gamble, I rock the boat, 

I am trying my hardest to stay afloat. 

How did you find me?

I hid so well

In this fogged-up, calamitous 

Prison cell.

I covered my mouth,

I looked away

How did you hear 

What I didn't say.

I covered my mouth, 

I swallowed my tears,

My ears take in nothing 

But white noise.

I'm forgetting the sound 

Of my own voice.

*

*

*

Round two.

Back to square one. 

Ground zero. 

It's all nice and neat in your folk tales, 

But I'm no hero.

A grim parade of dead souls 

Lined up to bite the dust.

Russian roulette at its finest, 

A blood-soaked conveyor that won't rust.

Orthodoxy. Autocracy. Nationality.

Give me a bloody break.

More like:

Sell your soul to the missiles 

And burn at the goddamn stake

Collateral damage my god, 

I was born with a bull's eye to beat.

Comes with the territory, and trust– 

Standing your ground on my land is no mean feat.

Dark circles under my eyes.

A glazed stare.

I say all the right things,

But I don't care.

 

I stopped writing letters, 

I ceased to demand defence.

I'm a shell of a person, they say

I don't take offence.

 

Potemkin village and nothing more

I've seen the damage, I know the score.

The grip grows tighter around my throat.

How do I manage and stay afloat?

How did you find me?

I ran away–

You beastly, insatiable, 

Bird of prey.

It's never enough.

You're never done.

You feed on our flesh,

And you've barely begun.

I scheme, I connive, I rock the boat, 

I can hardly remember the verses I wrote. 

My ears take in nothing but white noise,

I'm forgetting the sound of my own voice.

*

*

*

Make no mistake.

Might makes right.

The foulest of men,

Trade in black and white.

I pour my coffee.

I close the book.

Someone knocks at my door–

I'll go take a look.

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Green light

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In Plain Sight