when you sit comfortably numb in a chair
I sway, trying to keep my balance instead
it’s not the physical ailments that hold me down
but a bunch of mental stuff
reading a book becomes a challenge
when supposedly neutral things
they charge and oscillate within me
depriving me of the opportunity to bypass them
I’m bound to describe them
far from all of them
as they wouldn’t be happy with what they did to me
even if it’s written in the black
it doesn’t matter, their smooth talk will clear the air
from all the chaff clogging their minds
and obstructing my way
they never care, they flounder about in their ignorance
or perhaps it’s a premeditated revenge
you never know for sure, forced to play their game
and that’s the one thing I try to spare myself
how can you be so busy with your life
and still spend seconds devising a plan
to destroy me and my precious things?
can’t you see? you put yourself on equal footing
with the primitive concept roaming for centuries
and in the end, I will be the one
administering justice
to the last drop of blood
pulsing through my veins for decades to come
---
Thank you for reading!
If you liked this poem, you can add your Insights, Comment, leave a Heart, Tip, Pledge, or Subscribe. I will appreciate any support you have shown for my work.
You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Mescaline Brisset on my Vocal profile. The art of creation never ends.
About the Creator
Moon Desert
UK-based
BA in Cultural Studies
Crime Fiction: Love
Poetry: Friend
Psychology: Salvation
Where the wild roses grow full of words...
Keep reading
More stories from Moon Desert and writers in Poets and other communities.
Comments (2)
"When you abuse the power, you lose the power," is something I've oft quoted from myself from my first appointment as a pastor. There was an individual in the church who had quite the reputation for bad-mouthing & getting rid of pastors. My predecessor (& classmate in seminary) was the final straw. The rest of the congregation decided to preempt his efforts with me & began a letter writing campaign to our district superintendent overflowing with affirmation & their undying appreciation for me. Their letters started pouring into his office a little over a month before he began his campaign against me. Over the years, my views of this have been tempered by experience. Unfortunately, it doesn't always happen & abusive people don't always get called out for their abuse. Still, social capital is a real thing & someone who spends it abusively had better be building it up in other ways or they will find they have lost it completely. I'm sorry that you continue to suffer this sort of thing. My prayer is that time will not only heal your wounds but also cast light upon & reveal the woundings themselves & those who perpetrated them. As the old prayer goes (paraphrased): "Dear God, those who would count themselves our enemies, may you turn their hearts. And if you cannot turn their hearts, may you turn their ankles that we might know them by their limping."
Gosh this was sooooooo intense! I freaking loved it!