Thief

thief 

Whose hands are these?
thief
Hands that furiously stole my words
thief
Hands that clawed at my larynx
thief
My words have been abducted
thief
Debarked by jealousy
thief
Hands that choked my voice box
thief
Hands that lack trust
thief
Hands that live a lie
thief
Hands that misappropriated speech
thief
Those envious hands taunt me
thief
Hands that assume I lay in defeat

thief,
Defenseless I will never be
Silent? Maybe when I sleep
The modus operandi is never retreat
Reclaiming what’s mine . . . One syllable at a time.

 

 

 

April is National Poetry Month, and for the 30 days of April, I will write a poem each day.

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