Don’t Talk


Let’s talk of love,
Of sunsets,
And peace,

Let’s talk of roses
And romance,
And full glasses of champagne.

Let’s,
Talk of joy
And having a baby,
And windchimes,
And feasts,
And,
Well,
Anything.

But let’s not talk of hate,
Or war
Or crimson rivers;
Wounds crackling with pus,
Popping scabs,
The sizzling gashes on my face.

Don’t speak of lost soldiers with forgotten limbs.
Don’t think,
Of discrimination,
And sorrow,
And divided skin.

Don’t waste a single breath
On misfits,
Outcasts,
Or widows.

Ignore conversing about infants
Left in the gutter,
Or orphans without arms,
Or bombings,
Or fire in the streets.

Don’t mention parents
Who kill their children.
I don’t want to know
About incest,
Trauma,
And rape.

Don’t look at the spires
Constructed of bodies,
With insects crawling out holes,
And eating out frowns.

Absolutely never speak,
Of anger and sadness
And anything in between.

Why bother with illness
Of mind,
Body,
Spirit.

Forget about the times
When liberty bled.
That’s not on my conscience.

Why mention families,
Torn,
Apart.

Why speak of agony,
And brokenness,
And death?
Don’t speak,
Of suffering
At all.

But let’s talk,
About anything,
And everything,
Anything at all.
As long
As it’s not,
You.

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