Tumbling Bones
Frail body shudders with it's stance.
Dilated eyes stare behind something.
A disgusting bitter taste in my mouth.
But the attention sends me into a trance.
Everything starts to settle.
Tranquil feeling, my shoulders sit.
Until I hear the blaring herd outdoors.
They'll ram full force onto my walls.
Trying to break a rib.
My throat stings and I buckle into submission.
I pretend to cry so they can go away.
The herd runs over everything it sees.
Reality gently tugs at my dead hair.
Everyone knew my exact location at all times.
All for what I was good is discarded by tunnel-visioned strangers.
I'm flanderized, all I can do now is become a carcass.
My body folds into itself, into my most primitive shape.
Thousands of running's feet tramples my body.
Crushing, tumbling, the details are too offensive.
The feeling has never left me, it never will.
Because I'm subjected to this for 20 days.
Grueling, painful, dragging.
Eyelids fall and my hair is a mess.
But this is my most famous work, what I'll ever be known for.
I'm degraded into just being a one trick pony.
Hostile, everyone's hostile.
Literacy is dead, my words only fall on deaf ears.
Nor my cries, nor my screams.
Just until I conveniently say the wrong thing.
People only start to care when I'm a pile of bones.
They pretend to be sad, then move onto the next.
Gone, chased away by the herd's legs.
You'll find a singular rib to be absent.