Peace

How ***** the color of viscera squarely foreign in my breast To be the butcher and grim and goddess All in one Leaves identity succinct Or identifies succinctness If it has been Then so it was always before Therein is 'Peace' Reposed and eyes rolling Great, vacant saucers on vertiginous axis She is quite the swollen beast And on all fronts, she is terrible If only you'll watch you may notice her growth A malignant sort An unwelcome appendage I'd dash it out but I've already gone Too pale and dogged in life to succumb I curse her tenacity She has a sister, I think Or maybe a child A child who lives down deep in my chest A child who shrieks and tears down the walls Perhaps she dislikes their pattern