Copyright reserved. Please do not reproduce without consent.
Unstable
by Michelle Faulkner
You think this is quaint, a case of the blues
A handkerchief for a dainty cheek
But I want to howl, I want to shriek
I want to tear the world in two
As you safely stand
In your well-dressed land
Handing out ornate soliloquies
Like pennies
yet neglecting to understand
The poverty of agony
While my dark demeanor
is dismissed
I will burn buildings
If you insist
On painting glitter
over rage
On labeling my pain
a phase
An inconvenient rite, a blight
On your ladylike
well-mannered path
My wrists bleeding
As you correct my math
My words are not petty, not obscene
I am not a robot, not a machine
To defuse, deprogram or debug
Or merely lock away and shrug
In your placid belief
that compliance is peace
What is prison for
If not release?
Copyright reserved. Please do not reproduce without consent.