Your word v. mine

Hand in hand we walk the banks of mistrust,
skirting around meaning, pausing and stuttering behind ulteriors,
The oily black lake of cynicism slurps in the background,
we grind our teeth in mock civility,
gnashing all the fears of us, and our ancestors, and our sisters in Boise,
and our friends from over the edge,
they toil in our inner realities, sinking us , steeping us in that darkness,.
I taste the metallic twang of anger and step back to question why,
you start to speak but think better of telling the truth,
no, we must play this dance of veiled meaning.
This is all we have left.
From unflinching duty of protection, to guarded caution, through the fogs of paranoia, with its red blinking lights,
and the shadows over your shoulder, talking to and amongst themselves,
to unhinged fear, and poison rampant. The feedback loop that eats its own tail.
Serpent across seattle.
I have to run for the hills. You'll know why when you smell the green of the grass.