The smell of gasoline and sulfur
fill the emptiness
of the night
that changed me
forever.
Was it ever
that you cared?
Ever cared
that I bled,
just as you never did?
The hand stings my face,
just as
the gun pistol whipped you
to an early grave.
The grave
that you dug
yourself,
dug with hands
so guilty
they could
stain the night.
Could it be?
That
We are the same,
a part of you
is in
a part of me?
Let it never be
that I ever
walk a mile
in your shoes,
for you have had me
running from you
my whole life.
You talk
with your fists,
not with your lips
and
I won’t take it
any longer.
I deserve better than this.