Phobia in ChainsInherited coercion is a breathing god who basks in our submersion.Adoration is palpable as blinding legacies. We long for sacred Braille.Dusk's vagrant shall have no screaming religion nor a convicting deity. For he has noneHe only lives in a pauper's solidity.His tattered soul's been exiled beneath a golden interstatewhile above suburbia's mass destruction plans holiday vacations.He only knows he needs to sleep hunger is his only burden.The moon's dark shack is his first class bar. The world is his insane asylum.Won't you stop to talk to me? Your words are sweet and amiable whereas your pennies make me stink!Allow me in your garden parties. I mean no disestablishment I only want to dine amongst kings.Disheveled sir, we are not kings just morons with a currency.Estranged man with erratic pleas you are society's phobia in chains.by Erika Montenegro, Cathedral City, CA
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.