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.


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...

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