Friday, May 6, 2011

Pushing Out Air: Part III: Wolves


You are alone. Rick is gone.
Stopped in your tracks
marked the way you went
footprints on the ground
hours, forgotten which you rode
past the trees on the winding road
darkest night creeps forward
dragging your pain by your hair
making you feel aware that they are always watching
monsters that pillage through the forest
quick as thieves and dark as night
scaring you, make you sweat
running is all you can do.
they have found you again
on top of you
swarming like hawks
wolves to their prey
you ran from them
chased you were
away from your old self
you took their prize away
made it seem that you were never there
they way you wanted it to be.
The warehouse is safe, even though chains
chains hanging from the machines
riddled with blood sweat and rust
years of work for so little pay
you realize you are not alone
they are there, outside
waiting to jump and maim you
take you back to where they think you belong
hating them is what gives you power
maybe it is time to give up, to stop being free.
That is what you want, right? To be free?
If it doesn't come at a cost of running.
Still trapped, my soul hanged from the rafters
swaying swaying.
The trucks have broken windows now, the light pouring in.
Blinding.
Breath on the back of your neck.
Hairs raised, like guarding a precious jewel.
You are ready for anything.
You feel a pain,
It
               all

                      goes


black.

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