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.