Pain spreads into virgin veins
and newly thought-of branches.
An insistent fist,
twisted and knuckle-pressed
into the backs of us.
We have looked, dry-eyed,
into the dark drear,
contriving a laugh,
picturing courage and rebellion
while fetal in our dampened beds.
And, in the light of day, we walk,
zombified and smiling.
Madmen
