Hold my hand when these claws come out of their slumber?
If an apocalypse is nothing more than a revealing of truth,
Imagine how many little boys were slaughtered
upon learning what I have been trying to tell you all along:
this rage was not an accident,
a mere whoopsy-daisy coincidence of a cluster
created at random.
A child can comprehend the concept of cause and consequence
But leave a grown man alone to beat on his beloved?
And some remain bewildered at her becoming.
Well, what could we expect
when instead of heart she grew spine?
It is a practiced thing this thorn in the flesh
I fear for the flesh
what the thorn begets.
Postscript// You can appreciate a woman being disgusted by cowardice can’t you? I'm exhausted.
