Capture

Helicopters and stiff winds messing up my hair.

Bright lights, red and blue, chanting:

“She didn’t fight fair.”

Ammunition, cold triggers and frustration.

I hear you saying my first name,

Reciting laws and proclamations.

Three legged creatures from hell and purple sky

Melting into my pupils.

“She won’t be taken alive.”

Yells, bangs, shots that cannot be taken back…

It’s off to the races, I keep racing.

The road ahead is losing its track.