My Foolish Audacity Pt. 1

I was resurrected like the seasonal blooming flowers,

with fresh nectar on my flesh,

perhaps, it was from Spring itself.

What good is humor

without knowing the wrath?

***

I sought out to expose the humor.

With a shift in my cadence,

I announced my wrath onto the company,

and silence erupted.

Not a single flinch.

***

“You are being sharp”, I was told,

and the screeching began.

My arms extended out onto the walls,

and the screams echoed against

the walls within me.

***

The nectar haze has faded,

and the inquisitive lips remained.

I joust to lock my jaw but

the treasonous words are caught in between my lips.

I became a prisoner of my own unshackled tongue.

***

I will not flee to absolution,

nor to the dirt.

I will flee from where the whispers float,

and homogenize onto the ceiling.

I will hide and inquire on my own.