Will  the islands of  our minds unite or rip?

Where do words go when they enter me?
From your angry mouth  you let them rip
They fragment,  break to glass, and poetry

Take my words or miss, you cannot see
The struggling rise, the unfelt dangerous slip
Where do those  remote words  enter me?

The pointed shards of glass cut memory 
The bleeding feeds  the vampires   of your lips
They  violate, they slice the poetry

Our   leader  hopes to mock democracy
Calls for riots  or death but not his whips
What dark words  have slid in ,  raping me?

Now  the old   don’t recall  dignity
The writers toast them with a stinging quip
They   utilise, they mince  my poetry

As the toxic liquids we will sip
Will  the islands of  our minds unite or rip?
Where do words go from my ears to me?
They fragment , needle , hurt to  poetry