Passengers
all along.
Never even
reaching for
the wheel.
The subtle
nod to our
aggressors,
signals our
acquiescence
to their will.
Passive,
in a faulty
vision.
Soul derided
for a moment.
Lost forever
to the corners
and the bleak
alleyways.
Every touch
a violation.
Every word
a spiteful curse.
Seemingly
from out of
nowhere,
a fist,
then laughter.
Never even
raised a hand
in self defense,
or uttered protest.
No will left
for indignation.
No decision,
or direction.
Just along
for the ride.
Now,
until the
passenger door
opens
and out
jumps
a fugitive,
running
for their
life.
Or,
the driver
stops
and pushes
out a corpse,
spent and useless.
Pray
to be
a runner.
No more
just
a
passenger.
HG – 2021
