Acceptance

I brood, and I snarl with disgust, watching you slither

your voice is but a whine pitched deep in my ear

a whine that I want to stop

a whine replaced by a blade?

Pin pricks dotted with blood

you yelp and you disclaim

Am I suppose to hear your sorries

am I suppose to really believe you are sane?

I know the voices I hear are my own

there are no others within my head

So here is the fear that you must accept

I am always going to make you pay.

 

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

March 2/17