I think about it, all night long –
My less than selfless attitude
To those I think have done me wrong
Around whom I’m most like to brood.

As if I want to make them pay
For doing what they did to me
By functioning in such a way
As I assume they’re bound to see.

The trouble is they’re unimpressed
Or else believe they acted well
To see me make myself distressed
And amplify my private hell.

I’m like those casualties who strive
To keep their bleeding wounds alive.

Photo by Alice Alinari on Unsplash

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