The hardest compliments

To swallow

Are those that threaten

A negative self-construct

I endured on the assumption

That I was the incendiary

Because no one wants

To be truly, unalterably

A victim


I didn’t want

To be innocent

Because to grieve

Such a death

To grieve

The potentiality

Of a heaven

To which

The now absent key

Can no longer


Is unbearable


Even in retrospect

Swallowed by shame

I couldn’t face

The irretrievable loss

Of an archetype

The threat

Of violence

Against which I

Could not stand

But must somehow

Stomach if to live

I could stop

Those crimes

Which in ignorance

Or sickness

I let come to pass

But the one thing

I couldn’t bare

Was being guiltless

In an unjust world

How would I survive?


This might make sense only to me but I was afraid of being weak, of being powerless, of being helpless, of having no control, I could change my actions, I could change myself but no one else and if I wasn’t doing anything wrong then there was nothing I could do to change the situation. At that time I had to think I could do something, anything that I had some small measure of power.