I turn my face
inward to the sun inside me,
an incadescent hatred of the chains
in which our oppressors bind me,
bind us all;

I have decided
to step away from the grim, chilling night
and accept the rage that burns.

I have decided
it will be better to dance in the fire,
rather than drown in the cold and the deep.

This is not the first time
I have been angry.

This is not the first time
I have breathed flame.

It does not matter.

I swear to everything I know
I will burn you to nothing.

You will listen to the sound of your lies
boiling on your own tongue
and your cruelty
blistering your own hands.

And then you will hear no more.

And I will call to the world–

all of us who have been chained,
all of us who dwindled in the dark
all of us who thought we were powerless
hungry for love, for justice

–I will call them, triumphant

and I will tell them:

You, who are hungry …I have made you a feast.

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About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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One Response to Invocation

  1. Trent Lewin says:

    Sometimes you scare me, Jones, but in all the right ways. You have a flaming soul, you know. I love your anger.

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