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.