I asked you to tell your story.
But you lied--
you closed the door on me.

Betrayed  in younger years,
your pain never faded.
It petrified, into a rock wall
high and sheer.

I can turn the key slowly,
unlocking the mystery  
of how old wounds still sting, but,
it’s no quick release from misery.

You found relief
in an inanimate remedy.
Or was it the chance of death you took
that entranced you,
a needle roulette, not Russian,
but just as deadly?

I cried
when I heard you had died
in your ecstatic reverie.
And the crimes that had been
perpetrated against you
were upgraded by Fate
from neglect to homicide.