reside

whimsy thoughts are spread across
a quiet harlot's lot; her blanket frayed,
its tassel braids, and staining dots a paisley pattern.

she calms her nerves with sup of tea
and clears her throat and mutters pleas
to god and worldly ruler as would a dog on winter's frigid night.
the stars, blinking, stare to respond with vague repose and background noise.
and cloud slinks away, uncovering the glowing scythe of a shrugging moon-like apparition.

my god my god
she said to me,
my life without a joy or hope
of coming days that bring to cope
with ways to find my truest self
is gone from me and nothing else;
i wish to live as they once did!
i'd like to fly and deep-sea dive as
birds and dolphins, breathe and cry
with truest friends, taste and hear the sweetest
fruit of mankind's song, in tandem anthem our earthly flow!

but No!
she shakes her head in violent throes
and pounds the ground with
guttural groans; she tears her hair, the grass, and earth
and throws her shoes, her jewels, her clothes
to waft away in shifting winds,
to separate
into everything;

the winds, they swift!
her frenzied arms in tandem dance with
creaking branches, the groaning lifts into the whipping
whispers of the air, and chimes of grass split
the searing rush of blanket noise that
emanates from every single place and where;

Oh my god! she shouts,
now with her bare, blunted body being blasted
by rain,
her blackened hair tangling in the madness
of the wind,
Where am I to find the unsold souls and empty miles,
to simply live and raise a child;
to love in full! for living free!
she cowers and shies, in shame perhaps,
she saves her face from a reply
that may imply some judgment of mine.


but I can but
but only say, that
if you fear for your sanity by hatred of your very selves,
then you must destroy your sense of individuality.
all will be well once you integrate
into that which it saves you, and earns your hate.