Goddamnit

TW: suicide/child abuse/self-harm

I tiptoe past a behemoth of a man

Sitting slouched in slumber

On a sizzling summer city sidewalk.

He has a cotton-white beard  

With traces of wine and piss smears 

On his pre-ripped designer jeans

Fresh from exotic hands,

Children toiling in a sweatshop 

In a faraway land.

He takes a bear-trap grip around my throat, 

Looking down at me, even when I stand above,

With these freezing, furtive eyes. 

Eyes mould iron will into pillars made of sand. 

The silence muffles the ear-piercing cries 

Echoing from a full gas chamber 

Or the exhausted sighs of the starving, homeless, pregnant teenager. 

Silence drowning out faint scraping of a razor blade against 

A child’s pillow-soft skin in a corner broom closet as her father 

Drunkenly runs his mouth into the ceiling with no bother.

Silence drowning out the mother telling that child with bated breath,

“Nothing lasts forever. God will reward you for your strength.”  

He shows a blank stare,  

The same face I saw on those tracks,

The same face carved into the front of the train

As it shot towards me.. 

The face that scared me enough 

To jump out of the way. 

The face nailed to the feet that 

I washed with my tears after he taught me how to cry.

The face that I’ve been told through clenched teeth to love 

Yet simultaneously, fear. 

He pulls me closer,

Puts his lips to my ear. 

“How about a joke?” he says. 

“This joke is like a kid with cancer. 

It never gets old.”

He laughs. I laugh. 

“Where did the guy go after he was hit by the train? 

Everywhere.”

I see this man no matter how far I run from him.

Goddamnit.

His name is even tattooed in my lexicon.

But even though it’s good to have something to blame,

I’d rather sleep at night knowing that all good 

Is not a gift needing to be repaid.

I’d rather sleep at night knowing that the world has some sick bastards

Than be in the pocket of some cruel puppet master.