Every Time I Close My Eyes

At your behest, I’m announced
Like the bottom most headline
Of a Daily you will eventually renounce
To sit upon a throne that is mighty –
And fallen at your feet,

Shrivelled from your touch
Carefully trudging in your shadows
For I must
Not let the occasional silence come
Crashing down, and watch the edges
Of my sanity chip,

My bleeding fingers have asked aloud
If I am going to remain a mere
Consequence of the actions of another
And let pitiful laughter drown it out,

Where is the anger? Where is the wrath?
Why is the bitterness at the back of my tongue
Not transforming into rage, why is the aftermath
Slightly underwhelming, why is my complacency
So adamant on living in the present like it’s the past?


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