From Malice to Experience

These words of kindness are killing me softly
Words once spent with the scent of pure innocence
Words now spent with intent of injustice
Wilting my working limbs of gentle intention
Limbs once lively, willing, and driving
Limbs now drive by need, want, and surviving

How this came to be was all along beknownst to me
My mind awake, aware, awaiting
Yet somewhere along the windy line of time
My hour glass of equanimity passed
And no move could I take to lessen
This waking maliciousness

What am I now?
Upset…but how?
No thought can shake this scratching rake
That grazes my heart and soul
My sweet memories feel so lost
As if locked in Pandora’s box
Waiting for my cursed fingers
To loosen their locks
That they may return to me
And caress the raw muscles in my chest

I will never again be innocent
Behind the blind of willingness
I will never again be as pure
As the day I first became sensible

Rather than a waking of malice
Must this be simple experience


more by A. M. LAINE

Photograph by Paul Garaizar

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