My darkness came to me that night
by the sound of a hollow drum.
Soothing rythms of revenge
you give as a gift of love.
I willingly accept.

"In Rock and Love we trust..."

one a therapy.  And
the other.......................
a sick, new fun type of
torture.



Curling myself into a tight ball,
I caution every written word.
As it is checked and questioned.
                 we all aim to please...


Meanwhile,  I have my own questions
to ask,  if you please...
[( Dismiss them)]     This
is about trust.

You trust.   Shut the door.
YOu.
Trust.




Round and round we go.
One attempt after the other.
Slash! Slash!.......retreat.

I have a bandaid for you
Though that is quite a bit of blood.
  Either..........
.,We can pretend that it will fix
that steady flow, or
acknowledge
that it's just
                           (a buffer
for the all-seeing outside world)
(a soaker, trying to slow the damage).
We can admit that
we hurt each other.
Each one cutting back into
the last.
Making the healing process
slow and infected.



This is a virus.