Inside
buried under smiles
as innocent as childhood
hidden by energy
that eats the inner core
enveloped with laughter
tinged by hysteria
where no one can see, or touch, or feel
the infinite coldness
Waiting
surrounded by darkness
like a corpse in the grave
clamped down by a vise
whose claws rip and tear
forced into submission
until no one’s looking
deep down in the well of pitch, and stagnation, and fear
the infinite coldness
Outside
revealed at last in the eyes
through condemnation and indignation
recognized by the putrid stench
of pettiness and intolerance
exposed in each word and act
through acid hatred
an eruption of vomitus bile—black and caustic
the infinite coldness
Copyright 1997 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman
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