I am fighting to resist

strong impulse

to step off high road

dip bare feet boldly

into waters of righteous indignation

my devils whisper vengeance

seductively into bleeding ears

egg on palms that itch

to slap cheeks

that spew false smiles,

revisionist history

shrill voice that

fills the vacuum left by my

dignified— but deeply unsatisfying—

silence

I long to crush fingers

plucking at my dignity

my integrity

along with my unblinking eyes

that offend by refusing to

unsee the betrayal

were the thirty pieces of silver

worth it? I wonder

I watch the vultures continuing

to feast on the bones

they keep their heads lowered

refusing to meet my gaze

I thought you knew me better

echoing in my head

© 2024 Christine E. Ray – All Rights Reserved

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