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Feral

by Johanna May

Do not ask me why I am
like a tree never wondered how it is
but mutely gives without a choice
and mutely give without knowing
that it is giving.

Do not ask me why I ask
like a crow questions the world
it did not create,
but found it has a voice
and not knowing that it is a voice
it has, it caws without knowing
what it does is caw.

Do not ask me why I devour
and glut upon the seams
of what happiness I could,
like hunger does not speak
even if it has a mouth
but it has a mouth that
only feeds and feeds
and knows no reason.

Do not ask me if I love
as if a hurt wild creature
will ever return again
to the bestower of its wounds?

Do not ask me
I rage, I rage against the words
that does not encompass
the whole of me.

Do not hurl spite at me
It will be like spitting upwards,
to a nonchalant sky
that will only blink back
birds at you.

01/20/2013

Posted on 01/20/2013
Copyright © 2021 Johanna May

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