Finley Dhar Poet Free verse

To Run Incites the Chase

I thought the silence sat heavy, 
but only I was carrying the load, 
and so only I felt the crushing weight, 
of my silence. 

I've found that I'm incredible at
running from my problems, 
while inciting them to chase me. 
But you did a real good job,
of causing them.

Just as you weigh my value, 
to another of my blood, 
I raise questions of your own,
against so many others, 
who ought to be in my life,
in your place. Oh, 

how could I ever make you understand? 
When my tongue dries up, 
moment your hands tighten on the steering wheel. 
I'm not one to make my mind known, 
and the cloth and wire I wrapped round my neck, 
knows that twice as well. 

my grief is not aesthetic,
my sleep is not coming, 
my fever dream is your absence, 
my hope is your damnation, 
my pleasure is your absence. 

your grief is my imprudence, 
your sleep is your nature,
your fever dream is my humiliation, 
your hope is my successes, 
your pleasure is your mind becoming my own.

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