Sunday, November 1, 1998

Invisible White Flag

Why do
people
seem more like sharks,
plotting underneath my nails
and laughing
behind countless walls
and all secretly believing
me wicked
and empty of
“spirit”,
searing my pride
with these pure white
glances
while simultaneously
smelting on me
more cruel armor,
sending me further into myself,
further into their apparent evil,
creating a monster
from the reflection of their own eyes,
superimposed
over my begging form?

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