Telling 

by Mary McCarthy

  

Anger wakes me 

pushing me out into the air 

to speak where you will never 

be welcome 

no matter how well you cover yourself 

with denials and apologies 

no one will believe you 

no one swallow your refusals 

or crouch in your shadow 

no one will carry 

your shame for you 

as you stand naked 

dissolving into smoke 

and a sour taste 

a ghost no one will notice or regret 

Don’t think you can follow me now 

into the wind and sun 

my dark hair burnished 

by golden light 

a wild tangle 

rising glorious 

as though alive and dangerous 

as Medusa’s snakes 

their tongues tasting power 

turning you and all your lies 

to stone.

* * * * *

Mary McCarthy has always been a writer but spent most of her working life as a Registered Nurse. Her work has appeared in many print and online journals, including Third Wednesday, Earth's Daughters, the Ekphrastic Review, and Verse Virtual. Her electronic chapbook, Things I Was Told Not to Think About, is available as a free download from Praxis magazine.