Friday, April 6, 2012

Good Friday

you swallow down my vinegar-sour thimbleful of
tiny wrath, as if you deserved it,
as if it were your own.

your merciful silence sends me into fits,
raging sorrow scoring wound after wound
into the record of my scars, reopened.

you bleed too

sometimes i wish you would just
not exist
then there would be no one innocent
therefore no one to blame

go away
sometimes
but please, never leave me alone.

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