The background noise you hear
is the screaming of my soul
amplified and echoing over the eons
it is a constant cacophony within my skull
it is the traumatized keening
of a tortured mind on fire
it is my desperate attempt to make sense
of this
circus you call reality
it is my subconscious trying to reason with these
Wonderlandian rules that you have created
spilled out upon pages of black and white checkerboard
some words fit
other words don’t
some words will be seen
other words won’t
I can hear my heart’s maniacal giggling
almost a child’s sing-song story nursery rhyme
about being careful
to watch your step
and falling anyway
because the flagstones are wet parchment and marshmallow fluff
your Carrollean jubjub bird
has a sharp beak
and I can hear the bandersnatch within the thicket grove
growling for a feast at my throat
I am no stranger to wounds
I have bound myself together more times than I can count
never with cloth
always with steel and leather
until I disappear behind lays of protection so thick
no one knows my face, not even the mirror
you believe you control my image
you have given me the biceps of Athena
the sway of Aphrodite in my hips
the power of Boudica in my stride
the angle of Joan D’arc in my jaw
yet now you think you can hold me here?
in this tiny box you balance in your outstretched palm
why?
because my cheek bones cannot cut glass?
because I choose the sword over the milk pail?
because I fight for my sisters instead of mourn their fate?
make no mistake
under this armor lies the heart of a goddess
starkly defended by the blade of a she-wolf
Eric Syrdal is an independent poet/author. He’s an avid gamer and Sci-Fi enthusiast. He enjoys reading science fiction and fantasy literature and spends a great deal of his writing time focused in those genres. He is from New Orleans, Louisiana, where he lives with wife and two children. You can read more Eric’s writing at My Sword and Shield….
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