There is no hesitation
to pick up bird feathers
from off the ground,
and heal an angel's
broken wings.
But there is a pause
before we reach a hand
to the broken claw
of a demon.
Tell me now,
Are they both not in need of saving?

Tears stream down my face
My screams ripping at my throat
I grip at my lungs
This burning in my chest as I realize
My heart is aflame my
Eyes burning up as they dry
My feelings not mine
But someone else's
It feels like I'm not me

the laughing cackles
from over there

lips of a pack
of perfectly
manicured hyenas

unable to control
their simple natures

they speak simple and
repeat each other

simply

they would choke
on three syllable

words and

I would laugh
but they don’t

deserve my
sense of humor