Leave it to me to let
You down again
Then pretend that the problems
Don’t come from within
For I’ve been
Out of body
Outside looking in
And I viewed this flesh vessel
Absolved of all sin
So it couldn’t be such
An infallible form
Without agency over
Responsible for
It’s not me,
Must be you
Didn’t choose to be this
Didn’t ask to be born
Barely want to exist
And it only makes sense
When oblivious bliss
Pleads the fifth
When confronted about
All the crimes
I commit
About the Creator
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More stories from Michael Brandon Marchese and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Reluctant Reporter
"You can't send me!" "There is no-one else. It's you or no-one, and that is not an option." Ameera looked at the fat paunch and florid face of her boss, a man who lived for the story and the kudos it brought him but who rarely gave consideration to the people behind the drama. When had he become so hard? She reckoned that by the end of the year, he'd be dead, collapsed from a heart attack and she struggled to conjure any sympathy in that moment and instantly felt ashamed at displaying the same lack of compassion that he had.
By Rachel Deeming6 days ago in Fiction
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