He slapped her with an open palm
before telling her she’d be sold.
He slapped her mama
and then took the crying baby from his shuddering sister.
He crushed her skull with the weight of his boot, and the force of his last kick.
The vividness of sights of violence don’t leave me,
not even with practice.
They form my mood,
quoting its energy relentlessly.
lethargy is my only defense,
as I need a reason to shut my eyes.
I wish to forget,
to be alone.
while violence occurs,
and I hate to be a bystander.
I hate knowing to anticipate body terrorism,
and I hate making anything else a bigger point.
remember the omnipresence she scolded,
deal with the heavy countenance.
take in sounds
decisions made at all levels.
when the bigness
so that it might be
what else can’t we
I want to feel good
but that’s not a story I trust.
you want changed hearts
and I want capable ones.