The Cyst Poem by Raj Dronamraju

When the voice finally makes itself known
Counting on a state of infinite fragility of those bearing malformed tissue wherein sense of humanity has grown over itself

That is when she is sealed in her prison of one way misery membrane
You will never get what you want no matter how much you pray and focus and upend your life and pull and prod to get the poison out

Check your cavalier ways
The build-up of the pressure filled
Stories that are bottled up in poison sacs collect disdain and resentment

They will wheel you in
On someone's bare and vulnerable picked upon imperfection
Cut and squeeze and make hoodoo on a permanent abrasion of sadness
Can I have a little water?
Could you remember your humanity long enough to give me a little water?

I don't want to be on anyone's radar
Anonymity invites attention by how hard you try to be anonymous
I don't want to be collected in or collect poison sacs

Pragmatic posturings, the truth is hung with a nail
Excised and drained, the truth is impaled upon a surgeon's scalpel
And is sent off to be dissected and documented