Free

Weak withered soul, I sleep alone

To spite the ones who make me moan

How foolish are they, to crave my kiss

Guilt festers amidst sleepless nights like this

She-devil in the open, sweet Hell unfolds

Torn tethers on our wrists won’t hold

We escape the confines of our shackles

Break my evil bones, their hearts I rattle

My lovely lies tempt, teeter on the truth

Cover the pain with paint and glue

Masquerades and faces, distorted smiles

Paint my rosy lips with dark denial

Tease the true with metaphor

Frantically lock and bolt and chain the door

I distract, I act, I create a scene

I excel, I attract, think thoughts unclean

Poor peasants praise, my guise so tight

Egregious ego evades God’s will and light

I curtsy, I bow, I seek standing ovations

Broadsiding the noose, my pretentious placation

Hope hangs them like art in my gallery,      

My feigned faith will never set me free.

Megan Forrest, 01-21-2021