"That is not how the world works,"
they said. The man in the white coat
and the one who was my friend.
Your henchmen in a row and 
all the women loyal to you.
The pompous impotent king
you propped up on the throne 
and the one dressed up in robes
as Peter. And how many more
before and after that day?

"The world works like this
because we say it does
and you have no right,
no power, no permission
to speak unless he says 
you do. And who 
would believe you anyway?
Keep quiet. Walk away. No, run!
Pretend it never happened."

There were those who told me
the only way was to strike back,
to hit you where it hurt, to destroy
what I believed in once because
it would wake you up to all the lies,
force your hand and capsize
this little lie you told yourself
and undo it all. "That's how
the world works," they said.

You yourself had told me,
had you not, though I had not
understood, that you "didn't think of this"
or "couldn't dare do that" because
that's how the world works, tick tock
like clockwork, spinning round
and round and there was no time
to listen to the truth or stop
to sit with a friend who 
lost her footing. Or was tripped.
Isn't that the way the world works?

"The world is not supposed to work
this way." That is what you say
in your sleep and as you walk around
dazed and confused, feeling hurt
and used and without the will 
to carry on as the wolves gather
and feast upon your fall. You
don't even see me here and why
would you because to you that's just
not the way the world works and you
are blind as ever, never even seeing
it is a new day and that is not
how the world works anymore.