I didn’t know I stepped into a cesspool
Making a statement to her
Which ended up back to him
Because she couldn’t be trusted
He bitterly annihilated me
Claimed I didn’t offer him a chance
He didn’t offer me one either
I wasn’t fishing for one
In what he considered brilliant prose
He misconfigured me
With violence that men of a certain type do
Both of them write of violence
Of a certain temper they are
I, pacifist, shrug, always wising up in trust.
I wasn’t invested in their story
but they’ve taught me much.