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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required "The Forgotten and Fluctuations of Awareness" When the crime was committed, the writing was already on the wall, no one listened. It climbed insidiously out through the cracks like a friendly tarantula. that sad poet I read today, she writes of dry mascara. poet destroyer what point to apply ink to windows, at all? surely best kept clear unadulterated. so you are best prepared, you can see, clearly, when the writing's on the walls. the signs of dark undertones were already there. slick smiles always won, moved the doubt of deviant criminality, swiftly away. charm, always cleared the air. always, the truth was disbelieved. always. the sad histrionics, hormones of an overprotective, insane mother. Others had their day had their statements heard; apologies spoken, before the twice cuffing. but not the missing piece, an apology, never delivered. Some wars bleed internally, they don’t need mascara to wet a story; just justice - sharp nibs, swords walking keys. blackballs pierce the aether. bloody halls left empty, barren produce the loudest quiet murder. a short list of cursed incumbents all succinctly numbered. When the real war landed many years later, and the lies lifted, the abductors remembered the grace extended. the time given. the gravitas of the mother load swept over them, high armed, laser sharp in visceral vibration. hidden deeds. glowing reports. freedom shopping the undead, the smile unaware perhaps anxious of the reveal, as they try to nonchalantly sell, themselves, talk the talk, walk the floor. not swept under pristine carpets; the listing charade of the obvious ignored. shot in broad daylight where all can clearly see, what it means. the truth of it all kept silent. The martyr, shot, obliterated, the chord cut mercilessly. you think that what gave birth and what was born could ever be parted? Dirty politics bought its own war, a place of peace on fire, heaven on earth, ends eventually. not mine. awareness in the child snuffed in the obtuse abduction, reverberates like absent noise. its echoes now arrive in the non-surrogate silence of truth. mother and child alienated, segregated? impossible. This life and the next, never parted. When the real war landed, the forgotten, the missed, never once hesitated. granted, there was a certain madness, always strength. awareness full bodied, precise, punctuating. motherhood's loving, protective. when alienated, it's also, lethal. (LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
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