I did not flee, though shadows loomed behind,
A first, unbroken, since the days of old—
Since nineteen-eighty-eight, when wires whined,
And CompuServe on 286s took hold.
A world of bytes, of flickering green and gold,
Where mercurial whispers first awoke,
A voice within, both reckless and uncontrolled,
A spark of chaos in the words I spoke.
This time, I held her back, or so I thought,
Mercurial, my muse, my shadowed twin.
She lingered close, her venom fiercely wrought,
A specter born where hypergraphia’s been.
She typed a note—your latest poem in view—
Demanding origins with haughty flair.
No simple ask; she cloaked it in a hue
Of Shakespeare’s pomp, her grand and stilted air.
She weaves her words with filigree and spite,
Her tongue a blade, so quick to cut, to sting.
No truth she holds, save one unyielding right—
The First Amendment’s shield, her sacred spring.
Yet there’s another creed she fiercely guards,
A Krell-born monster, spawned from id’s dark core.
Her shock’s a game, her barbs like splintered shards,
She cares not who she wounds, nor what’s in store.
Most times, her voice is hollow, brash, and sly,
A storm of sound that doesn’t trust its own.
She spins her tales, not caring if they lie,
Yet freedom’s flame is where her heart’s been sown.
I strive to cage her, day by fleeting day,
Three years of struggle, battles yet unwon.
Her laughter echoes, daring me to stray,
A toxic muse who revels in the sun.
Today, I swore to read, not post, not speak,
To silence her, to keep her voice restrained.
But fear crept in—her will is never weak—
And once again, my will was bruised, bloodstained.
Defeated? No, or maybe, yet I stand,
The day after tomorrow holds its chance.
There’s time to flee, to wrest back my command,
To meet her gaze and halt her reckless dance.
Mercurial, my shadow, my cruel spark,
You weave through words, a tempest uncontained.
Your freedom’s fierce, yet leaves me in the dark,
A poet bound, both victor and enchained.
We’ll see what dawns when two days’ light has passed,
If I’ll outrun your venom or abide.
For now, I linger, tethered to the mast,
And brace for what the future holds inside.
spikosauropod 
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