Loops
her whispers surface in broken fragments
all withered and cracked and lacking
her eyes, distant
her mind, unsteady
it’s hard to gain balance here
burdensome to be a thinker between whirlwinds of dejection
enveloped by hostility without reason because it’s so easy to take this bait
“BE YOURSELF” written in bold letters across screens, signs,
and spit from every troubled mouth
it isn’t offered but thrown
not whispered but shouted
but if they mean what they speak
then why do her words remain unheard day after wretched day?
over time what is believed to be music
turns into a series of unsynchronized screams
a deranged melody if you will
hosted by open mouths with empty heads
that absorb this violent contradiction
but there is something terribly beautiful
in the way that she
and others alike
inhale chaos
and exhale poetry