Epistle from the Collateral Damage
I took it personally
that you diminished me.
Shooting me from a loving place
doesn't make me any more alive
or feed my family.
Your cause, the greater good
boundaries
stuff
nonsense
are not for me when
the sacrifice
is me.
My limbs, organs, eyes, ears, nose, throat, heart
my beautiful still fresh umbilical cord
my fledgling philosophies
my provincial views
of life and art were mine.
At least with a vengeful God
I knew where I stood.
In killing me
making me a martyr
you have planted seeds
of your own destruction
Christ died for the sins of others
self-made martyrs
often play this game.
Your therapist told you
that you always have a choice.
Yet none of this was mine
I was innocent of dictators
and mutilators in this life--
I will get you in the next until one of us
finally gives in.
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