You cast me as a prisoner
in a windowless cell? Why?
What’s wrong with you?
You do know I can’t exist
in here forever, right?
An octopus cannot be hung
on the clothesline of your
discontent so you can
swim ignominiously
with stiff-back, slow turtles.

This is no hallucination.
Your fluoridated brain should
be revived as you lie
paralyzed on your sweaty
out of the shadow.
No one here is happy.
No one here has Chinese red
or Irish potatoes to dress.
Excuses? Sorry. Can’t hear
you; the music’s too loud.

You tried to brush me off
of you exactly like you did
the others, the ones you
flicked away like dandruff
collecting on your shoulders.
They dropped to the ground
dead, their bones and teeth
shrinking away from their skin
and never knowing you were
the cause of their being blown
away by the slightest of breezes.

I’ve never chased moonbeams;
I won’t start now…not even
for you. You can’t have my
words to give away to another
on those nights when you take
one of your blue pills and your
ego grows impressively until she
mounts your nailed-down body.
She’ll assail like a predatory
Sphinx, her weighted presence
going for your reptilian brain to
arouse it into rebellious activation.

Flaying knives deftly cut away
those mind-controlling layers
of your manipulated brain and
I’m still here, left in shadows that
won’t hide your prisoner much
longer in this windowless cell.

by Mimi Wolske ~~ All Rights Reserved

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