This pitiless place (Poem)

So much static
and hands pulling in every direction
lamenting voices raised in discontent and anger
I can’t hear above the din

Oh, God, but let me hear your voice
the twisted gunmetal fears I cry are rusting against my face
they drop with clinking noises at my feet
cause me to slip and stumble along body strewn floors

My mouth is dripping with the words people put in
like black ink it runs down my chin
as I stumble through the tunnel of the wretched living dead
clawing and scrambling and demanding
I gag.

We’re married now. We’re free now
but they can’t or won’t let go.
Like heroin – anger seeps into their veins and turns
day to night as they wander in their fugue state
as their souls rot in the cage they built while they’re drunk with the taste of their own tears.

Dancing forever in a masquerade
paper faces cover grimaces this mindless parade
where a flower’s tender petals are crushed under self-righteous heels
they’re killing their hope – perfectly imperfect hope
and with every death, there is less and less oxygen
for people to breathe

There is no god here
only devils with garish dresses and good intentions
murdering the daylight while lamenting the dark
only fools burning up with a fever of infected minds
mindless, mindless, “off with her head!”
they chant – and another flower dies

It’s getting harder to breathe. I cover my ears as they cheer
as they joyfully shout for their own demise
As they strip beauty down with twisted arthritic fingers In this pitiless place. This tragic kingdom where the desperate damned damn themselves.

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