The queen surveys the chessboard
The pawns tremble
The king bends his head and steps back
She sweeps the board and cuts them all down
It is just a game isn't it?
What makes it real?
The pain is confusing
A dark wooded joke
It's a delicate problem it is
A case of being too sensitive
A case of imagining what is not there
Or so she says
Like dark horned unicorns and violent Santa clauses
Vicious tooth fairies
Who lie in wait
Preparing to pounce
On a small child in a big dark world
The sensible sharp edged knife sorts out the confusion
As does the drink
The cigarette helps
Inhale and exhale the pain.