20 (Lazarus in Flames)

it smells like independence, sounds like
desperation, your one second of rage,
deflected by the Lie, set free to focus on
a path of regret, rush headlong into a
painting of someone else’s life

a house unburns around you, a red
resurrection, sensation flows like blood
from an open wound,
rough emotion, need, drives you,
deeper than despair,
an American Gothic poster child
tripping over your own
certainty that someone is desperately
wrong

in the shadowed spires of a broken
manor, the truth is the chain that
will hang you

Poem by Shane Douglas Keene

READ THE SERIAL NOVEL BY JOSH MALERMAN