You hear the shock in passing speech,
a life too strange, too far to reach.
A world you never thought was near,
until it whispered in your ear.
A mirror voice, a rhyming name,
who turned suspicion to a game.
They mocked the dread inside my chest,
until the nightmare passed the test.
To strip the truth is suicide—
no shield, no skin in which to hide.
Speak out, and you become the prey,
with vultures feeding through the day.
Surveillance in a righteous guise,
with casual malice in their eyes.
They lit the fires, played the part,
and left the wreckage at the start.
Then slipped away to borders new,
to foreign skies and husbands too.
They fled the dirt they left behind,
as if new dirt was hard to find.
Yet here I stand, without retreat,
upon the ground beneath my feet.
I pulled the plugs, I barred the door,
I don't need mercy anymore.
A quiet jux to what I knew:
the random tales once told came true.
Now walked off pages, faces, names—
players in their sickened games.
And here I stand: I broke the rule,
no longer prey, no longer fool.
x