Tonight I sleep in a Xanax induced slumber
paper gun tucked under my pillow
hands tactically placed meditating
rosary beads smooth and worn from years
of deep sleep prayers
never to see the light of day
or have the privilege to be heard
amongst saints or sinners
I land gently with neither
while my finger is on the trigger
safety lock slips into a death zone
premonition soothsayer shakes
and bones rattle my inability to rationalize
all that has passed between myself
and the woman I have become
with a history of causes marching on and on
for peace, women, race, gender – equality
always with the winds of truth at my back
and promise in my future
as if one move to the distant right or far left
could have turned the pages
with more distinction or pride
my failures come wrapped neatly
prepackaged fate on a blank slate
each line filled with facts
non-fiction has always been intriguing
clarity seems a glazed over version
of all the do-s and don’t-s
and I am in awe of how flat the earth really is
or maybe its curve was just another myth
the way freedom rings off key every now and then
every now and then…

© TrilbyYates 2016