Crime Lords
iii.
can’t
allow myself a day
in bed staving off
the guilt of
self-determination
anger grinds the
tops off more
than teeth it
isn’t really
tenderness
the hand that cups
my head still
it’s more than
what I’ve
had
ducked down
arrested at the
vehicle door
free is
antonymic in that
barred space
safe from tyrants
speak and sleep
I am
Another one that rubs the salt, a tragic escape to the other side of bars. It's biting stuff, pruned and tight yet still some kind of honey. Well done!
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