Candystriped gallows faltering
in winded dirt, faultlines unearthing
No, my mouth isn’t bleeding!
None of me is bleeding! Please believe
me when I say it! Some masterful
clenching of the gut spins nausea
through the bones, blame shouldered,
ribcaged in a frightening shroud
spread through a thousand yard stare.
Is anything ever really
No, more threatening than anything,
what an oppressive place to be born,
a fist continually closing
ready to express
its horrendous strength –