Blacklicious Twizzles

Imprisoned Words.

The chosen weapon
So many collected
Spawned from schoolyard bullying
Nurtured in middle school taunting
Matured behind boardroom
Bedroom
And locked bathroom doors
Weaponry often hidden
Beyond the law

How simple the lacerations
A lexicon of ordinance
Delivered in whispers
Shouts
Condemnations
Sweet nothings

How naïve our defenses
Trusting verbal assaults
But air filled with everyday sound
Wishful double entendres
Until…

Until
The bleeding starts
From where
We so often know not
The festering sub-conscious wounds
Spread over time
Seem destined to last
As the aggressor hopes

And so…

Protection comes
Not in the form of retaliation
But by the mind’s ability to seal off
At least during conscious hours

Always hoping
Slumber will come easy
Knowing to fend off
Sleep-time invasion
Requires one finger
Two fingers
Three finger Jacks
In copious numbers

And still…

There are times
Prison’s locks are lost in shadows
Bars become blacklicious twizzles
Allowing dreams their escape
Into that time
Long past

Where sweet utterances heard
Came accompanied by caresses
Became lessons taught
Only to be banished
As sharp-edged words buried deep
The innocence of trust

How grateful we become
For the dawn of another day
With last night’s wrangling torture
Disarmed

At least until
Skies become dark…

Once again