day 103 (February 1, 2017)

…come, please
sit down next to me
the chair is always empty
let me tell you at least
how to simmer
a little bit longer
to march with fists balled
no one can shake your hand
when youve had enough
and raise them in surrender
the sharpshooters might at least think
that your punch is mightier than
their triggerfinger
let me please
tell you the story
of how my knees too turned to jelly
the crowd, trudging now
sandwiched me along
refusing to part and let me out
until i was forced
to find my feet again
let me tell you please
to keep screaming
after the throat has been cut
to bite the hand that feeds you
and feel guilty instead
that it fed you and not them
let me tell you
to close your eyes and concentrate
on spitting out the mud
so you can keep
when the highs have died
and your ears are ringing
in the new silence

and yet….

day 103 (February 1, 2017)

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