Writing Myself Back Alive (Poetry)

I look to the cracks of a crescent moon
for reassurance, for an unadulterated

comfort that will break the plate of
guilt that has formed itself around my

soul. I can fix the gaudy chips with a
stern ire and rocket-fuelled fire that

propels me into the molten core of
truth. I will not waver for droogs

or the ruth…less. I will stand strong
in the face of those who do me wrong.

Writing myself back alive is my kind
of revenge—a dish best served wordy.

I am a firecracker. I am a hurricane
with an all-seeing eye cloaked in a

bog of smoke. Feel my wrath like an
ulcer taking refuge in your throat.

You will not shoot me down. You
will not give me a crown and expect

me not to wear it. I will write myself back
alive, and your knife will take a nosedive.

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