Still At Large

She’s got her finger up against her lips
but she’s not shushing me; she yearns
to liberate, not to be afraid of
every goddamn choice she was
ever going to make

She’s pale but her yellowed teeth
snicker nicotine, you could
probably smell it like sulfur
A mile out//       but it’s not all bad
&not at all like her, her scent is sweet

You start to fathom
There’s more to her misery than
______a deplorable mystery
She’s quiet now, tongue carved out
Can’t quite imagine the silence

That burning end and the arsonist
A panache wearing the narcissist
She wants to set everything ablaze
She just can’t swallow the flames
There’s a sword in her throat&
blood caked in her nose but
Her real diagnosis
is madness

A rogue captive escaped


3 thoughts on “Still At Large

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