Image source: Google
Collecting the Toll
What’s that, you say?
You’re ready to confess, are you?
Oh, my dear man,
you must’ve confused me
for someone else.
There’s no need for that stuff.
I know your vile sin all too well.
That’s why I’m here
smiling over your broken body, after all.
In fact, had you not
picked my kin to prey on,
you wouldn’t be bowed before me
praying for mercy I’m ill-fit to offer.
But that’s the dirty trick, isn’t it?
They’re all my kin, all worthy of
gentle respect you denied her.
Like you, I won’t be gentle.
Hell, you might’ve even gotten away
clean, virtuous and intact
had you abstained from your perverse lust
and craven need to rip through consent,
admittance neither given nor heeded,
but entry forced, vandalized,
left in pieces, droppings left by some
repugnant, lecherous litterbug.
And so, here we are, you and I,
together one last time
before I send you on ahead
to be judged by the Other Guy.
She will never be the same.
Your fate will be far worse.
Oh, my dear lad,
but of course I’m
going to hell too.
An eye for an eye,
and whatnot and so-forth.
But unlike you,
I have manners,
so, you first, sir.
And there you go again
with all that
mercy and forgiveness talk.
I fear that I’m fresh out of that stuff.
I wonder if my kin screamed out similarly
as you parted her knees
and had your way with her.
I imagine she lacked a vocabulary
macabre enough to adequately describe
or protest against the criminal
things you did to her,
but oh, how many more decibels
you’ll shatter in tenfold retribution
for her terrified shrieks
that went unanswered!
And suffer you will, my man!
Just as she did, just as I am suffering
at this very moment, for there is no mercy
for you, only justice, dispensed by yours truly
with a smile, and I promise you that
your suffering shall be put to a swift end
just as soon as my pain ends.
See how fair and just that is?
I should warn you though;
watching my kin weep at
what amounted to a viscous force of nature
answerable to nothing but your own ill nature
has left me in a catastrophic amount of pain.
This… could take a while.
I know the tone is disturbing, but this poem wasn’t born in a vacuum. My friend trE wrote a harrowing poem on her blog that resonated with me and should resonate with everyone. You should check it out.
I debated sharing this one, but trE encouraged me to do just that.
via Paying The Price — a cornered gurl