here on the gallows
you introduce yourself as a marionette
victimized by outside forces
controlling your outwardly actions
even thoughts from within
you ask me to touch your hands and feet
as if you are jesus christ himself
back in the flesh to save
one damaged soul at a time
though there are no puncture wounds
I begin to believe in your stories
how your thoughts connect with mine
just as you say they do
dancing at midday on public stage
your strings entangle my limbs
drawing me closer into your web
until there is no space between us
deceit and lies no longer exist
you whisper into my ear
only your insanity and my reality
exposed for all to see
september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
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