Unsure if my immobilization
was inspired by one-sided conversation
where you’re pushing, pushing me down
asking me how I ended up on the ground.
“It’s my fault,” I say, “I keep falling.”
Breathing in dust, my brain is stalling.
You command me to walk,
my feet drag and drop
until I see a cliff,
like a true escapist,
and pretend to fall again.
Another lying breath.
Another fall closer to death.
– Kris Leliel
Read another poem: The Prose of the Fool or Peril
Or let me read to you: The Monster Within
