What We Want Most

Revel in the scars

still bleeding out for attention:

Begging for mercy to no one,

our voices echo as empty seashells

lapping at our tormenters’ feet.

Take the lashings,

whine and wail and shatter

teeth, gnashing to the rhythmic screams

we wish our voices could reach.

But the tracks play on

and the traffic scoots along

to more friendly melodies;

yet still we chew at the splintered morsels

and grind the salt into our backs

all the deeper.

Toxic elixir to choke the bones down

and our voice is free

to whip the air and all who inhabit it;

let them feel the nails

the sliced flesh of our pride.

And now the moment passes,

leaving only stank breath and

innocent tears on the table.

Seeking to escape,

we merely spread the punishment

and become what we want most

to kill.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And now for something not so depressing.

frustration

There. Monk for you. 🙂

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