All posts filed under: poetry

Outside Gate 2.5

Outside Gate 2.5 Here, I am the rich. I, ilk of captive grasslands; interim of conversation and strangers of shared descent. This discomfort will follow – as oxide stains the validity of tonsils, leaked of coarse throat, straining, frugal with desire to be heard. I abuse the story I come from. Here, a gun asks for a namesake. His crippled hips grin of a lawless history, scorned of the 70s. Hands shuffle us inside. Tell us for a moment, we must finally scream for our own selves. I, voiceless for a future, has entanglement clock our sameness, our waning fear of living. Inside, they pick up all our mangled selves, sputtered of wax; and so we become ember, holding onto life again. We become your voice, ascent to fueling the ends of times, like gunshots splayed of freefall towards streets. Here, I am the rich, burdened of word – further, they tell us not to fight again. Further, they say we do not seek them. To this I wonder the requirement of boiling my skin, …