An easy fix

My throat is torn

A mess

Of bloody fingerprints scattering

Claiming victory to my

Plundered spirit

It's funny.

why is it so easy to

Throw

Others under the bus

Why have we never been

Granted a

Seat at the table

When will my body

Function

In the way that my spirit wills it

Maybe it's better to

Hide

Behind veiled eyes and

Rosy tinted glasses

We are all cowards

( is this what belonging feels like ).

Can I speak up

Growl

Do something

Maybe we can collect

Whisper some

Gurgled

Sound from the rips placed on skin

( but silence is so forgiving )

I gnaw into my gumline

a row of perfectly

Cracked

Crescents; silent and stifled

Under previous interrogation

your smile leaves

Dents

In the creases of your forehead

An ever present

reminder of your

Humour

At my pain

We've gorged on

Fractured relationships

For far too long

Masks are stapled where our

Vision

Has been blurred

A pretty picture

Is better

Than no picture at all

( does that make us all liars ).