Seat at the Table
- 13 hours ago
- 2 min read
I am betrayed by my own naivety
Dread's shadow circles my periphery
The hound with heaven on its back
The stick that beats him away is the stick my hand
lacks
I am reaching for something held above my head
Spinning like a marionette, my fingers skim the thread
I track bad memories in through the kitchen
Fists hot at my side as I'm scolded into submission
I am tied to my own naivety
My legs are strong and sturdy
But they're belted to my seat
A fighter, a killer, a child with muddy feet
When will I start asking favours?
When will I have to stop?
Is love something I savour?
Or what I trade, spend, and swap?
Does it matter if I'm kind to animals?
If my heart aches for my friends?
If it doesn't carry weight on the board
Will it leave me bare in the end?
Older men look at me with weary eyes
My choked scream away from their demise
I hover by desks, a moth drawn to heat
A fighter, a killer, a girl with sharp teeth
Will my process be passed over?
Will my vocation be all but naught?
Am I pinned to the dish of my birthrights?
Do I eat in worship of the flies and the rot?
The knees meant to carry me
Are planted firmly in the ground
The faithless curve of my spine
These prayer-less lips without sound
Am I killing for their crumbs?
Is there a chair at the table somewhere for me?
Is anything truly promised for
A fighter, a killer, a monster of complacency
I'm seated at the table
I'm drowning in the blinds
I'm waiting for improbable hands
To slide in front of hungry eyes
My breath catches to the crack of the break
I'm racking up the debris of my pleasures
I'm itching to scratch out of habit
There is no hope now, I'll be here forever
Fatigue holds my shoulders steady
The devil shakes my hands endlessly
Ensnared by the jaws of self-indulged prophecy
A figher, a killer, Go, won't you relinquish me?
A fighter, a killer, a child with muddy feet
A figher, a killer, a girl with sharp teeth
A fighter, a killer, a monster of complacency
A fighter, a killer, God, won't you relinquish me
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