you know what’s funny is

even as you were burying
your pen knife in my back

the good woman inside me
the part given to me by my grandmother
was trying to save you from his bloody sword

you can never say you weren’t told

and i am thankful to be reminded
how beautifully brutal life is
when we become our own agents
of instant karma

there is nothing left of your face

i guess some women just can’t get enough
of self-mutilation