Tar and Feather Suit.

These days the praise is so long-gone:

the desire once harbored for you to belong,

you’ve gone ahead and just moved right on,

into my nest with your reach – over-long…

I can’t help but to see through the “friendly”:

the poorly fabricated façade is now crumbly,

ignored chances to walk away from it humbly,

and now, the blood in veins courses numbly…

no differences to work out between:

two people from long opposing teams,

while one keeps the other second-guessing,

behind intentions growing into forces unseen…

the equation you’ve laid out is rather easy to deduce:

you think that you’re exempt from any need for gratitude,

an explosion of the magma from my own home-made brew,

that’s seething at the threshold of my door opened up to you…

if you had any sense, you’d be driving fast and far:

as my eyes have tired of looking at your parked car,

and I feel like I know nothing of who you truly are,

beneath your suit of feathers glued onto hardened tar.

5 thoughts on “Tar and Feather Suit.

  1. kosmogonic says:

    Thoroughly intriguing. You are a master at creating feeling through partial meaning; never quite revealing the crux, just taking the awestruck reader on a roller coaster. Brilliant.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Erica Herd says:

    Great closing line.

    Liked by 1 person

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