stolen belongings

stolen belongings
 
persons wonder why
i leave my house unlocked
my keys in the ignition dangling
while keeping myself
locked up inside of me
 
and yet i wonder why they fear
the stranger with his weapon
of gun or knife or fist or penis
flaccid   
 
it is for me
like spiders fretting o’er their webs
when boots of disregard await beneath
 
why do they fear the painless
desecrations of the flesh
when the scourging of the romans
brings no shame
 
nay, tis the hanging naked and exposed
before the crowd that breaks
this yielding to the agony
of being, yet unseen
 
my god, my god
i cry
so silently
commending unto you at last
this pain of being me
 
come cut me down
oh cut me down
and shroud me once again
for it is me
oh god, it is me
who is the stranger here
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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