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A Poem by Aramey

A sequel to my poem "Faceless"

They're at it again,
turning my back to see such thoughtlessness,
judgement, assumptions, the needled teeth smile,
scratching their nails in cryptic crimson wording
across my flesh, a coded message, secrets kept,
covering me in a fog that I can see through,
but instead, I wait.
Whispers-
and still,
I wait.
An insult repeats,
adding to scars once made,
annoyance running deep,
and adrenaline fades once more,
to the once familiar bleeding, tender, red ache.
They laugh, then chilling shriek,
Demands of my attention,
they want me to burn,
scorched by the sun,
until ashes, pitchforks, in a ganged up way,
squash the life from my eyes,
until I am paralyzed, with no where to run.
Those who know me not,
those who know me well,
Speak! They scream,
and still I wait.
If only they'd have come to me,
when they still had a face,
instead of poking, and prodding,
those who pretend they know my name,
and to those who knew me better,
a promise was made,
but promises mean nothing,
when one can drive oneself insane.
Knowing this all,
my silence,
is my way,
my choice,
when words,
become venomous,
and thoughts poisoned
by known judgmental hate.