He’s far from stupid:

Alien to those
Who live
Outside the bubble;

Your bayonets
Speared him through–
Slit his dreams
From sternum to pubis–
Wide open
To rot.

He lives in secluded avoidance,
Removed from your

These wounds,
You created,
Whether intentional
Or malicious

Mental process
Separates compassion
From cruelty.

Apology accepted.
Now get the hell off my lawn.

© Jane Bled 2016-2017
All Rights Reserved.

…and goodwill toward men © Jane Bled

If no apology occurs, sometimes you have to make-believe it happened to move on; or find closure without one, because it’s not worth the dust off your boots to worry another nanosecond about something beyond your control.

Thank you for sitting for a spell on my front porch. They say there’s no rest for the wicked, but I’m not one to deny basic human rights. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use the peephole, though. 😉


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About Jane Bled

Dreaming, writing, singing. Curious queer human. Soul-deep; heart speaks.


All Things Jane Bled, AV Club, Free, Poetry, Readings, Writing


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