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A Poem by P.K. Winterway
Just shut up, shut up. Shut. Up. they say
With duct tape strapped across my face, debased
From that taken-for-granted sake of humanity
Thinking it’s vanity when it’s not,
But having a voice, I thought.
More and more, I’m compelled to silence,
And I can just cry out with the question why,
Because I’d rather die or lie in my own shit,
Thinking everyone I love hears me as venom
Through their veins as their vile anthem.
Are my words that evil? — With each letter
Like a dagger into the eyeball, piercing and pulsating
Membranes to break and make others so feigned,
But that was never my intention, and what else can I voice
When I thought I had the right to choice?
In fact, my only choice poised to make to keep any peace —
Simply to keep the tape on me, pressed deep,
Remaining voiceless, faceless, nothingness, nameless,
Blameless, loveless, fearless…. And hopeless.
And all will see in my soul nothing but emptiness.
