Stabbed.
Posted: Fri Jan 18, 2019 5:45 pm
And with blood dripping from his hands.
He faced a jury of his peers, looked at them imploringly.
She was asking for it, with her come hither eyes and her stab worthy clothing.
She clearly wanted his blade to go through her heart.
He says, I am not responsible for my actions when she tempted me so.
Watching from the gallery, I cannot decide which is worse.
That his excuse is so pathetic, or that the jury are on his side.
Around the world watch many stab victims, wounds in various stages of healing.
As one, we cry. Once again being told that our very existence was to blame for our injuries.
Once again, held responsible for the actions of another.
Look what your justice does to us, and tell me how it is just.
Was Lincoln responsible for his own death, sitting there without bullet proof clothing as he was?
Was John Lennon to blame for his death, having signed his name so provocatively to David Chapman?
A horde of broken people are more broken each time the people who uphold the law tell us we are to blame.
We wore too little, we were alone, wore the wrong underwear, too drunk, too much bra strap showing.
We were not actually stabbed, but for the pain that feels like a thousand knives at once.
Our wounds open some more each time a judge passes a non-guilty verdict for a guilty person.
We build jail cells in our own heads, keeping locked in all feeling, all trust, our old selves.
And then you ask why we don't report people more.
He faced a jury of his peers, looked at them imploringly.
She was asking for it, with her come hither eyes and her stab worthy clothing.
She clearly wanted his blade to go through her heart.
He says, I am not responsible for my actions when she tempted me so.
Watching from the gallery, I cannot decide which is worse.
That his excuse is so pathetic, or that the jury are on his side.
Around the world watch many stab victims, wounds in various stages of healing.
As one, we cry. Once again being told that our very existence was to blame for our injuries.
Once again, held responsible for the actions of another.
Look what your justice does to us, and tell me how it is just.
Was Lincoln responsible for his own death, sitting there without bullet proof clothing as he was?
Was John Lennon to blame for his death, having signed his name so provocatively to David Chapman?
A horde of broken people are more broken each time the people who uphold the law tell us we are to blame.
We wore too little, we were alone, wore the wrong underwear, too drunk, too much bra strap showing.
We were not actually stabbed, but for the pain that feels like a thousand knives at once.
Our wounds open some more each time a judge passes a non-guilty verdict for a guilty person.
We build jail cells in our own heads, keeping locked in all feeling, all trust, our old selves.
And then you ask why we don't report people more.