“Consequence of Greed” and Other Poems by M. Farley

Myles Farley is a poet born, raised, and still living in Chicago.

My Anger Proceeds You

My foresight was correct
Anxious voices floating around whispers of my future
Deception of hope

I knew the branches would cut me
but I walked straight in
my eyes wide open
visible exit wounds on my cheeks

The forests are being cut from their roots
I stare at the horror
hear the cries from the trees
Ive never been more comfortable with murder

I love the smell of burnt wood in the morning
Rebirth of a pessimist

Untitled

I am done writing about tragedy
I don’t know the raw truth of the word from my privileged perch
The syllables far from my lips
as long as both my parents feel earth beneath their feet

I am done writing about self loathing
I don’t know the sharpness of pure hate
My emotional wounds are skin deep
no knives, bullets, or bombs
My self hate is consensual,
My self hate has no trespassers

I am done writing about hardship
I don’t know how to sift thru the ruble
Constitution of true resilience
was not written from homes still on their foundation

Instead I will write about rage
A rage rooted in love
A rage so universal that it brings communities together
A rage that knows the language of laughter
A rage thats on a first name basis with possibility

A rage so deep that
when the dig up my fossil
they will discover
Love is not of this earth

Consequence of Greed

Life has been dug out from under my skin
care was foolishly not on my wishlist
My own blood draping every emotion
crimson fingertips

I’m left cold and open
They said I had to do it,
that there is dignity to be found in foreign hands on my body

My teeth chattering
Vibrating over my desolate skin,
I can feel my emptiness
I can feel my fear
Seeping from the air into the holes in my torso

Anxiety and apathy,
in quick succession
why should I dignify fear in this moment?
I already gave them my life

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