he pulled up in the driveway again
with his black pickup
my first instinct
was to slowly remove his eyes
exposing his optic nerves
i'd salt his wound. help him see me.
but something strange
a sort of construct of human decency
stopped me.
i guess living within the lines
is the cure for psychopath.
after grace and forgiveness
fails
lies, deceit, and persistence,
the minds knife
prevails
the effort
to live within the acceptable
is less tolerated
when you become
the casualty
you can no longer be innocent
like being thrown into a cage of tigers.
you fight with all you gots.
the mahatma came to me in a dream
and told me to turn my other cheek...
but all i have is one heart.
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