Assholes Don’t Shop at Target


One day
not long ago
you called me an asshole
because I refused to buy your ease

You were twelve
and feeling as if the world
was created solely to vex you
needle you with desires unmet

Each slight
a sword to your solar plexus
I, the primary villain fixed on your destruction
plotting exquisite tortures with each cresting sun

The truth
so drowned in a morass of years
speckled with kisses and consequences
twisted like party streamers held by translucent tape

No doubt
there will come a some day
where you recognize all of it was done with fierce love
your venom no impediment to my responsibility

for the construction of your tender heart

© Julie Ayers
April 2012 – NaPoWriMo 19


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