I find something small,
Suspicious and strange.
Black marble, crystal eye,
And it was you who knew my fate,
Taking the glass and pushing it down my throat.
As I swallow, I think of how it feel here,
How the round piece fits in my throat and stays there,
like an ever expanding sponge that stops the breathing.
Who decides your fate? Who decides your life is not yours?
Was never, actually yours.
How they stare when you state fact
One that is well documented- the president is a child rapist,
Not once, many times.
He who pretends,
He who sees visions of himself causing armageddon,
Some of you clamber onto land with ill formed limbs-still fish like otherwise
And the other tough luck, your deep blue eyes befall you in an ocean of slag,
Harden around you like silicone molding around a leaky faucet..
And all because you were taught that if the family friend, uncle or aunt asked you for a hug-
You’d better say nothing and open your arms.
Fallen down, fallen down
Past spires and eels and metamorphic rocks-
You are one past 8 doses of nyquil and the glue you found in your dad’s rusted toolbox.
Fallen down they say, to the devil-hard drugs, and well, you know the lord works in mysterious ways.
“God bless thee” at your funeral “all those fallen young men and women”.
And they say it at Jenna’s and Tommy’s and Old Kenny the Vietnam Vet’s.
“If you fall from Jesus, and ignore his blessings, his golden earth and blue sky, if you indulge in sin-you will fall to the Devil, great floods will wash out sin. And well, you know-the lord works in mysterious ways.”