Citizens of Fear
Cartoon by A. Hall Citizens of Fear I count the shadows before I step outside. Every glance feels like a question I cannot answer. The streets hum with warnings I do not understand. My papers shake in hands that do not trust me. Night stretches longer than the city allows, windows hide eyes that judge before I speak, while doors click closed at my approach, I count the shadows before I step outside. I memorize the faces that might notice the language I speak is too loud, too strange. Every word is measured against suspicion, every glance feels like a question I cannot answer. The wind carries rumors sharper than knives, sirens echo over walls I cannot scale, and fear curls around every step I take. The streets hum with warnings I do not understand. I hide in plain sight where and when I can, because sleep feels like a risk I cannot afford. Hope is a thread too thin for me to trust, My papers shake in hands that do not trust me. Meeting the bar over at DVerse Poets Pub,...
