Anarchy Anarchy

“All bitterness governs me. My soul, neck and hands are warmed by the blackest coffee. My wrists, knawed by winter's cruelty.

Memories, long forgotten, bind my heart in shining chains. Chains with a lock. The key, thrown to the winds and carried to the Bermuda Triangle.

The crackle of a paint can wakes me from my daily stupor.

It is my hand that does this. My hand that sprays the letter ‘A’ in dripping red.

My hand that circles it.” Rodney lowers the paper with a self satisfied smile, as if to say ‘I am such a cool guy’.

“Pretty self indulgent, don’t you think?” Michelle pipes up from the front.

“Huh?” gasps Rodney, the paper folding limply over his fingers “I thought it was genius, and ... I mean ... it’s not even about me.”

“No one doubts that.” jabs Michelle. The class burts into collective laughter. Rodney, the heat of shame at his back, takes a seat and buries his face.

#poetry #writing #school #shame

“Always be brutal in your assessment of me.”- SpaceGhost