While I squeeze my teeth together,
Bite my cheeks,
And close my fist, I envision.
I envision the twisted snapping
Of bones bowing under immense pressure.
Snapping like children's fingers,
Puncturing into organs and poking through skin lesions.
The red dances and pours out at as venom,
As eyes explode and blood pours from your mouth,
Filling your lungs as you choke on your final words.
Gurgling something lazy and trivial; 'why me'.
When God swings his mighty fist of justice,
There is no why.
And if God himself will not strike you down
For your injustices upon this planet
THEN I WILL!
Then... the teacher raises her hands,
Calming all the indecent voices shouting obscenities.
And as hushed as the class, so too dies the feeling of death.
The judgement ends,
We are all just people.
Comments about this poem (Class-Room Chaos by Emily Beck )
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