vengeance

vengeance

By Ben Ramakrishnan

you run with such a purpose 

like you have done it all before 

daughter, if only you knew 

there are games that we play when we lie to our bodies

things that we say that leech off our corpses 

ink–or blood–stabbing into pages 

of unfinished speeches of lies and rages 

my feet have run wars and bolted the aftermath 

these calluses ache rivers of blood 

once pain has become ingrained into your tendons

once it has coursed through your varicose veins 

it is no longer a companion–but a part of your person

the beast that lurks in my heart and grows with the night turning 

like a moth to a flame, burned by the fire 

i live to obey your titanium fist 

execute me 

(i pray) 

and no scream shall part from my lips 

phantoms dance on my tongue 

of the pain i wish 

to inflict, to inject, to subduct 

on the whole of your being 

for i was a child 

until you took that away 

for i am a child 

and have long been tired of this game

the gallows are haunted by one blood-curdling

scream but, reader, i warned

it would not come from me