"War Paint"- Story of revenge

Kelsey Amell
I'm too much of a fast talker
Yet, they are not much of mediators,
Letting their noses grow just a little bigger.
Here I'm crouched. Temper tearing
Rounding out this triangle's corners.
With each effort,
I hear the screeches of silence-
Feel the pains of sharp truth-
Taste the sourness of running and hiding-
See the acts of betrayal unfolding in front of the blind spectacle-
Smell the lipstick on the collar, raising my open hand-

Now, spinning in the vacuum
Of their manipulative appetites, twisting
Becoming a contortion.
My bones smash, grinding against their stonewall,
As i become weakened I sink deep into their ribs.
I can't shred them to bits.

Resuscitation. Established, never to look back.
I feel truth-
Taste the silences-
See only pain I've enflicted-
Refuse to hear acts of betrayal-
Smell their fears-

Gripping that tongue so tight in my fist
Cranking back my neck,
Forcing the trickle down the Trachea.
This is my new voice....