Charade

Sense this charmed weight of my mighty thumb,
for a piercing fork of rusty nails,
digging up your prying heart and lungs,
with one slight cock of my indifferent mouth,
merely claiming relative love and kindness,
to enjoy watching you battle in imposed silence,
against my growing inherited stalwart armies.

From our very humble beginnings,
we’ve been holding onto these same rules,
pulling apart any who try to question,
even if it’s challenged as hypocrisy,
since this is how it was born and evolved,
leaving in deep graves the sketches,
never to be shown official acknowledgement.

Party with your highly publicized stubborn loss,
among my rapidly dwindling blessed family,
biting their baby fingers in my toothy smile,
where we’ll crush our ribs together for a camera,
fused until the moment is ended, then I let rip,
bringing tears out of hibernation on command,
my right hand providing a show while the left hides.

How dare you attempt to touch my self-description,
care and feeding as you pump your hatred superior,
turning our time into lessons learned far too late,
below dead kingdoms smoldering in your wake,
all for an unknown supposed purpose that must remain,
natural by our combined choices kept in said darkness,
I guess it had to happen once we grew tired of pretend.