I could say I understand
and I do say "I understand,"
with my Oscar winning voice
with my imploring eyes that ask you
for more, while subtly looking, at your crusted scars
I imagine some catatonic feline, curled
in your gut, waiting stoically to make the next cut
the next surgically precise silent scream
joined by other equally ferocious growls
that only you can hear, if you are lucky enough for them
to drown out the howls of your heaving heart
I can say "I know what you feel,"
you with your sacred steel
I can wipe the blood from your thighs
I can smell the stale silence of your cries
all the while looking through your soaking soul
mercilessly forgetting, your slicing red chants,
were meant to awaken a deaf mute world