Annual Appraisals

It’s that pucker up time
of year
When the only words to pass your lips are
“Yes sir”
When your tongue bleeds bitten
hot liquid drops
of unspoken words
Leaving a bitter taste
Soft feathers of wings clipped
Fall in a soft storm to the floor
Eyes shut tight
As you take more
Punishment
Golden silence reigns supreme
Mute you stand and scream
Daring to believe
It might be worth it
To simply stand and take it

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