Anarchy
Steps heavy with
Steel toed boots
Torches replace
Keystrokes
Wooden stakes
Carved into words
Skewering insides
Turning logic
Into a constant
Trickling streams
Of overdosed panic
Invisible blood
Flows thick
Drawing poison
From weak souls
Until the puss
Runs sticky
And thoughts sit
Restless
In puddles
Of old and dried
Scabby wounds
Until remorse
Draws clarity
From our bruised
Purple and blue
Beaten heart
And only then
Will logic settle
Into a steady rhythm
And only then
Will we be able
To turn ashes
Into breath