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Pilfered
I'm writing with my eyes closed
to see where the darkness takes me
if I just forget about
rhythm and form.
Boundaries melt away and explode
til what's left is what I could never say,
what couldn't be conjured in words:
the result of a raw, black, underhanded attack
by the bandits
whose kinship I should've abandoned.
But my bewilderment shouldn't be any surprise.
They planned it before my eyes.
The blueprint for gutting me clean,
for pilfering my soul-treasures,
and how I hate them. I hate them. I hate them
to no earthly measure.
I hate him. I hate him. I hate him,
the orchestrator
of my hungry displeasure.
Please
return my scraps.
Give back what crumbs remain
of a tasty existence.
I'm fading, sedating to nothing.
You're laughing
and claiming my life, my love,
my instance...
