Bang Bang, I’m going to shoot you  dead!

Electric convulsive shocks creating heightened velocity in her head.

Trigger words of mothers who have died, snowed, under morphine.

Malignant lungs charcoaled.

The death rattle  – gargles and fills up  the lungs ready to  drown every last Mercedes Benz  dream.

Bang Bang –  a Prayer  sent up to her envisioned maker with  every bad lead thought that scatters  across her  mind.

Know psalms off by heart. Guy Fawkes terrorism  paid  for this public bonfire – doesn’t make it right -doesn’t make it an act of kind.

Chug a glass of spirited potatoes – grapes squish out the thoughts that stain thy window.

Moderation is not what she seeks, she merely wants to come to terms with her grief.

 Such a sudden blow.

Patriarchs invades her  self-made sanctuary – no amount of sage can expel the plague he carries.

Itching, biting, scabbed. riddled with disease.

Blackened limbs fall off – ebony  hearted-trickster – outlawed  even the one  he marries.

Therapy Cluedo  in the south of France, – sewn up mouths and eyes , compassionless –  flesh hanging – bubbled , leathered  and well worn.

Every day he promises he will leave. He promises he will come visit his own mother – She can’t speak or talk – she is one of the frail old born.

Forlorn- A bus goes by – Sunshades hide the tears pouring out of her eyes.

Waving off a friend she once knew –  she may be safe under lock and key – it doesn’t make her feel better when they embrace with such passion, it could stoke  a field of fires.

Brazen- bewildered – lice infestation  and puffed up Eskimo  mess – Look at this  fragmented shell , she is in need of just  one caress.

Consumed with guilt – that is not hers to own. It is the cat’s fault your  home is a shambles and smells of piss , whispers biased loose lips, fresh off a scandelous printing  press.

Chased out of her very  -own home –  headphones firmly planted  in her ears to make her life monotone .

A spectrum of color and vivaciousness she has lost- who can silence the screams pouring out of  her mouth in tones of monochrome?

Safeguard her from inbred exploitation – cast back this tokoloshe to  his own devised theater of purgatory.

If Jesus wept – he didn’t do enough- a lake full of holy water can never anoint  his aimless  trajectory.

Justice is who she sides with ,in every battle – Ready for an outbreak of  war – she will evict Denial from her friend’s abode.

No more dossing about and ejaculating  scandalous words  – lies -that make justice’s head spin around so fast. Run Tyrant -she is about to  explode.

Remember,  what  a scrupulous enemy she can make  out of you.

Manipulation test- she scored well  above average –     The school of the gifted bestowed her with the largest milked  cash cow taken from mother nature’s personal  reservoir of dew.

She knows the rules, she knows the moves- instinct  and empathy are her winning tools.

She cares not for  his  sexist Judgment  increasing multiples of spore bacteria – frozen in  barricaded  transparent  igloos .

All it takes is one breath of hers to melt him into a little boy blue.   crying profusely until he is nothing but another muddled puddle in the tarmac.

A careless afterthought only remembered  if one is quick enough to look at the sole of the innocent’s  shoes.

* inspired by my own personal feelings towards something I have witnessed in silence  for far too long. My fuse grows shorter*