A tempest?s rage permeates within a mind?s soul
She, as quiet mice slink into our very homes, lurks about her myriad of peers



Posed betwixt the midnight shadows, watching, gazing, LISTENING
Whispers of prolonged betrayal escapes the lips of loves once known



Voices jute their razor prose contention and in single file strike
The loosely woven trappings locked within her chest



Torrential surge, its pain its ecstasy!
Truth begat the begotten woman!



She thrives upon her emotional melting pot boiled beyond recognition
Countless feelings boiling over into one bewitched concoction a single powerful emotion



The jaded masks her cohorts wear adorned in their golden trims and gem details
In reality were of no more value than gutter snipe with their faux finish and plastic rubies



As her daily work draws her direction askew, they speak about her forked tongues and monolithic under tones
They jest with glee at her expense, ingesting the joys of a spinal corruption



And yet, none have come to consider?





that every word



is heard