TIGHTROPE

Black on Black… you say,

A madness...yes…a brutal truth it is.

 

The evisceration of pain turned inward,

The observer recoils, shaking their heads in condescension,

While sucking back an exhale of quiet relief.

 

But contemplate this—

Would you truly prefer it the other way?

Suffocated anger unleashed with fury?

Our pain, unchained, directed at its true source?

 

If ever unleashed,

Would you dare brave the cataclysmic storm?

To confront the tempest raging within our souls?

Could you endure centuries of seething rage,

Spreading like wildfire, unstoppable?

 

No matter the bullet, the rope, the law,

This outcry could not be arrested.

For we know how to fashion a noose as well.

 

Understand this—

Our silence was never submission,

Nor a display of weakness or fear.

It’s a barricade against chaos,

A protection for us both.

If only you could grasp the tightrope we walk,

The restraint we must bear each day—

 

If only you knew...