Counter Attack

You can’t take words back. 

Once they’re out there. 

And as per usual, in my hurt, I withdraw inside myself, and you stare carelessly at me as though you haven’t a clue. 

As to what you’ve said. 

What you’ve done.

But you should know this.

There’s a spot, on the back of your neck, near the base of your skull.

That in my painfully defenseless moments, when you’ve struck me without cause, I picture.

And imagine what it would be like to strike back at you in the only place I can seem to find where you are truly vulnerable.


My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog


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