do they know

do they know that sometimes
when i'm all alone
i dream up ways to peel his skin off his body
half inch by half inch
to chain him to a wall
with a switch
and a lever
to make him eat his own shit
and drink from his own fountain

could you tell if you were looking at me
walking down the street toward you
would you read it in my eyes
would you see it
would you recognize

do they know that i can hear his screams from the fire upon witch he stands
and i delight in it, with every fiber of my being
that i long for a place, deep within the earth
where no one hears and no one sees
that i want it to be dark, with the only light the candle i bring with me, and take as i leave
do they know the conversations i have with him, each morning before it begins
all over again

sometimes i wonder if it shows
in the way i walk
in the way i talk
is there some red dot or whitehot blindness that people can see, or some sweetsmelling somethingorother lingering as i pass by
does it show
or is that just wishful thinking

i'm so shallow sometimes
i want to be king of the world and queen for a day and it is only the thundering and the gunshots that remind me of the ice that runs sometimes through my veins
when i'm all alone

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