Podium

rseab76

With the clarity of an astute marionette with its strings cut
I deliver myself to you.

Reflecting myself in this mirror with defiance
I cease to rock the cradle you have nurtured.

I mark this occasion like the pieces of a mosaic
And I am stained in its results.

Decadence won’t buy your scars.
I learned this in sweatshops
fabricating inkblots of my tears
while the shadows on the walls kept me wondering.

Now I’ll tell you.
Your dictation must stop.
Wearily I pursue my curiosity
of how this story will continue without a spine.

Loosely words scatter the podium.
Your faltering taxidermy has left me floundering.
As you’ve abruptly used charity to mount my insecurities with your pamphleteering.
I’ve disguised myself behind words that actually carry meaning.

I’ve always been punctual at this forum
where your impositions are meant to train me in debate.
Reserved, I’ve studied letterforms for years
But only formed my opinion on them today.

Black flies are said to swarm and swoon over fresh blood.
Just as the lights of the city eat me alive
and remind me I’m alone in this
Rapping spirits beneath my soles suggest others.

While I drown my ears in the scape of friends to save myself again
the sun reflects off the windows burning posters saying I’ve been missing for years.
Again I feel at home.

It’s vastly obvious that my lifeline crack in these streets.
As I pass, you regurgitate my thoughts verbatim.
The street names coursing through my veins lead me back to the present.

…

With the clarity of an astute marionette with its strings cut
I defect.
And using my own hands
Renew myself.

#X.

I like how you connect and use words. #X.