One Poem by Michelle Faulkner

 

Unstable

You think this is quaint, a case of the blues

A handkerchief for a dainty cheek

But I want to howl, I want to shriek

I want to tear the world in two

 

As you safely stand

In your well-dressed land

Handing out ornate soliloquies

Like pennies

yet neglecting to understand

The poverty of agony

 

While my dark demeanour

is dismissed

I will burn buildings

If you insist

 

On painting glitter

over rage

On labelling my pain

a phase

 

An inconvenient rite, a blight

On your ladylike

well-mannered path

My wrists bleeding

As you correct my math                                                                                                    

                                      

My words are not petty, not obscene

I am not a robot, not a machine

 

To defuse, deprogram or debug

Or merely lock away and shrug

 

In your placid belief

that compliance is peace

What is prison for

If not release?

Michelle Faulkner lives in Portland, OR. Her poems have been included in two poetry anthologies, ‘PS: It’s Poetry’ and ‘PS: It’s Still Poetry,’ both available on Amazon.com.