As a Matter of Fact

I could grovel

bloody my kneecaps

on the ground glass gravel

at the feet of your high horse

exsanguinate my soul

supplicating droplets

as I plead for your mercy



my knees bare scars

of prior beseechings

today I stride erect

clear of eye and soul

begging no more


I could slay you

well versed

in the dark arts

of rhetorical evisceration

I could skewer you

on the bleak- whetted


of my justifiable rage

slicing you

to blithering ribbons

of steadfast judgment

willful disregard

today I sheath

my wordsmithed sword

weary of bloodbaths

bathed in interminable battle


I stand here

bethorned by mistakes



unadorned with pretense


in the visceral eloquence

of my new-skinned self

you may never

acknowledge my pain

forgive my trespasses

walk into a re-birthed future

I, however,









15 thoughts on “As a Matter of Fact

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