Desire, emotion, and knowledge we crave. Of the first he was drowned, of the others depraved.
I perched like a vulture, awaiting his grave as he walked towards a doe I knew had to be saved.
I'm fond to admit I am rather vindictive, and here he has strolled with no thoughts of conviction.
Alive in my eyes were the wolf and the vixen and, howling, he poisoned her cup with the mix-in.
My pupils are focused, for he is the beetle and I am the hunter; a chance to play eagle!
My talons of justice are sharper than needles, prepared to slash deeply and murder the weasel.
Phantasmagorias danced through my irises, screeching of violence and pill-carried viruses-
Coursing along through my arteries, numbing my senses, applying their weight to my sinuses.
Shivering deeply, my spine still remembered-the chill of his touch rivaled gusts of December.
The impact of him as he forcefully entered--I briskly approached, barely holding my temper.
In a waltz, not indicative, still not as soon as I'd like to approach, as the length of the room
Closed upon me I held up my hand. As she swoons, now I hope he remembers the woman he ruined.
I threw her a look and she beamed with her eyes so I knew that she already picked up the signs.
"My friend wants to join us both for awhile." How happy he'd be to have hope for two crimes.
The hand in my pocket was brandishing God, for this gravest of sins now would witness the rod.
One motion-I shot as he opened his mouth, now no word could come out, so did end his facade.
YOU ARE READING
The Wall Which Cannot Break
PoetryThis is a collection of poetry that I submitted to Button Poetry's 2018 Chapbook Contest. It focuses on gender inequality, the oppression of females, and the struggle for women to break the wall built between them and men to keep them below.
