Control

Control

Is a silent smoke

An anesthetizing ether

Wrapping its wisps around your neck

Oh so gently

While from behind

The beast bares his fangs in a hateful grin

 

This was something I wrote last winter and then lost track of until now.  There’s just something about it that I never forgot a word of it once it was written.

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4 thoughts on “Control

  1. Ah. I love this. Control freaks beware! And there are a lot of them(us?) (I don’t think I really am one.) And the poem can cut both ways anyway – controller/controlled. k.

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