you know what’s funny is
even as you were burying
your pen knife in my back
the good woman inside me
the part given to me by my grandmother
was trying to save you from his bloody sword
you can never say you weren’t told
and i am thankful to be reminded
how beautifully brutal life is
when we become our own agents
of instant karma
there is nothing left of your face
i guess some women just can’t get enough
of self-mutilation