The quiet rape

the stranger
the victim
the dark alley
a weapon
a struggle for her
the blood
the hospital
the report

yeah, right. . . .

the friend
the victim
the home
no weapon
no struggle for her
no blood
no hospital
no report

Can I love on my own?

I’m pretty sure with my humanistic means I can undo my hate,
Unwrap my angry passion slow enough not to spring,
But I’m wondering if I can love on my own.
Why should I love, if I am not your son?
Do you think that I owe you anything stranger?
Well, I don’t.
I owe a debt to my Savior and live in my death
For a cause that is greater than my passiveness.