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Unpleasant things

Started by Q. G. Pennyworth, March 22, 2013, 10:15:59 PM

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Q. G. Pennyworth

*Note* not sure if this may get used elsewhere, no copies for now

I'm afraid to open my mouth
I'm afraid if I open my mouth, this scream will come out
No, not a scream
A sob? a wail?
Yes, that's it, a wail
Like a banshee
That's what the ghost of my mother called it
In the dream I had last night
We were talking about something
And I don't remember the words we used
But it was great and terrible and real
It was the gavel that said it was worse to violate a website
Than a sixteen year old girl
It was the sound of shipping lines
That drowned the songs of the deep
It was the waterhose in the Maldives
And the pepperspray at UC Davis
And the sticks they brought to Dewey Square
It was the weight of the world
And it was on me
It was mine
I knew it was mine because of what was written on the whiteboard
I opened my mouth to say something
About how we couldn't ignore this
And we weren't going to
And something was going to be done
And I was going to do it
But the words got caught
And what came out wasn't them
It came out loud and ragged and incoherent
It shook my shoulders and forced out tears
Like a baby
And I couldn't stop it
It tore through me
It ravaged my throat
Like the dream where I vomited glass
And she smiled
And said
"That's a good wail."