Sunday, September 18, 2016

Futility

I know you. You are unremarkable
Small
You can't talk well

Words tangle as they came out of your mouth
Those bad faith words.

Yes, I think I know you.

The blinding fury
The rage that made you stagger
A mood that burned through the midnight hour
A hate that carried you for a long time

You drank
The poison, and prayed
Your enemy would die.

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