...wicked...

it was known oh, yes, it was
said with comma overemphasized and let it sit in the air
accusatory
that was me but not a me I typically hear from
and the third person walked in
beneath his suit trembling
at the accusation he made with a comma
the outside seemed to stop at the window
and turned in fear
away from the chips of cheap white paint
that collected for the last 14 months
in little piles
and with dust and with sunlight

he hadn't breathed
his hair stood on end
his eyes were expectant
not knowing it would not get his answer

and the radio blared with an insipid laundry soap commercial
but it too was tempered and low
the house was awaiting with the eyes

and the chair which sat the answer
was there with the house when it went up for rent
it smelled of must and dust
no matter what was done

he stared
his breath boring into the corner

...face...

Show thy face forward, to the tempest
And let not its lack of focus deter you from the fore
The warrior infinitum
The endless sword that does not dull in a trial of a hundred foes
The empty winds shall break themselves upon it

How can we fear a shadow's whisper
Or cower for a weakened reed
The mountain has set itself in the unbroken
It rises impassioned
The stone as steel
Assail thyself on its face tremble at its impassiveness

And the robe of faith
Truly emeshed in righteousness, not for itself, but what is right
The cloth untenable
Its flow daunting
It perplexes the self-loving
It remains hidden

Face it with unhidden eyes and name for me its faults