SPT 4

There’s a shadow on my back,

watching, listening—

I feel compelled to answer

to the son-of-a-bitch!

Meanwhile, meanwhile,

I don’t want to be censored!

Why do I have to explain myself?

To you,

and you…

And fuck him quite honestly—

R e v o l t!

That’s about the time I start

To retract my common sense,

go all whiny like a six year old:

Stepping-up on my toes,

pushing my heels outward,

pulling-up on the hem of my skirt,

contorting my arms behind my head

with excuses!!!

And I hate the weakness.

You just want to piss yourself!

When God gave some authority the right,

to manipulate your mind —

You learned

well,

the anxiety.

Control, control…

Repress the anger.

Fear and stuff it down

with a good dose of salty-sweet…

Blood on your teeth.

Attitude

Possess it!

You know,

pretend…

Take steps into,

1, 2, 3…

Whoever you need to be:

S a f e.

They talk about between,

in the grey—

but you know,

you know…

There’s only black and white.

It’s shown those

pearly-fangs

in the darkest-dark.

Even when you’re aware… 

It’s better not to be right,

become entangled

in how to choose everything

w i s e l y-

Until you go mad

searching for yourself—

And how brave it is:

To be you.

C o n f e s s…

Admittedly!

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Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2014 All Rights Reserved

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