poetry by j matthew waters

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
all rights reserved

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