Weak and powerless

Okay, so I haven’t cast off these chains yet—
Have not removed this burden—
But it’s hard to exhume a body buried so deep
And exorcise the soul that lays dormant within;
Yet this is the challenge,
The onus I have undertaken
To make reparations for my transgressions
And return to form that which I distorted
With selfish ambition and misplaced chivalry.
So easy it is to wallow in this
And allow self-pity to transmute into rage;
It is only then that I feel I could do anything—
Anything except sway your will—
Even though that is when I am at my most powerless.
In the wake of this nuclear decimation,
I am perennially pained by your decision,
Your silence,
Though I cannot say I blame you;
But I must urge you never again to tempt me
Or you will bear witness to me at my most powerless,
And I will make sure that blood stains your hands.



Vengeful angel

I’ve seen your misery;
You’ve poisoned me with your goddamned spite,
And each time I see that glower
I long to peel every inch of flesh from my face.

It’s sickening, this power you have over me,
The way you command my emotions with your eyes—
A glance for hope, an aversion for despair,
But never peace in this tempest of sensations.

It’s unfair, but you’re still so shallow;
Your perception is dense, oblivious—
You wouldn’t recognize such raw emoting
If it were stripped bare and flayed at your feet.

Nevertheless, the guardian I will feign,
Altruistic and placating as a gentleman can be,
But underneath this laughable exterior
Always I’m screaming at you, and one day I know you’ll hear it.

Your Impotent Fury

Vampire Rage

I do not appreciate this false privilege
You have deftly imparted upon me—
The way you use me as an intermediary
Through which to execute your impotent fury;
It lacerates me, leaving me feral and distant.
Don’t you get that I’m human, too,
And not just a pawn in petty games?
As much as I want to play the healer,
Dressing your wounds and mending your scars,
Piecing together the fragile remnants of your psyche,
I have neither the strength nor position to do so;
So I have only words, which fall far short
Of anything that could possibly assuage your suffering.
I am, in effect, rendered inert and powerless
To do anything that could in any way aid you,
Even if you were to plead for my help;
And though your conscience belies such rationale,
I would expect you of all people to understand that.


Evocation of Silence


I struggled effusively to offer rejoinder
Without condemning myself to an oath;
To say a word you wouldn’t hold me to,
To break the constraints of your mercantilism.

A barrage of verbosity would flow
Like a deluge untamable by dams,
For they would shred concrete like paper
And all my vulnerabilities would be exposed.

This is a veracity inadmissible,
For no elegy must be recited
That would expound revelations of abhorrence
Or in any manner undermine my guise.

I quavered under the pressure you applied,
Exuding satisfaction from my social demise,
Until at last I confirmed I didn’t have to respond to you at all
And walked away soundly.