on display | a poem

the dead act more from the heart

than the living I meet

*

did you ever wonder

that he might have been right when he said

fuck you

to your face, you prancing prick?

*

the dead meet me

*

I see feces in your eyes

*

everyday questions overwhelm me

*

play your music

my feet are blue

or cold

or dead

*

you burdened me with your silence

you had the words

but you swallowed them all

and bathed them in unjust fear

*

“I don’t get involved” = “this is wrong and I won’t make it right”

My own drawing © Laura Gentile 2021 | Instagram: @melpomenepaintings

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