THE VICTIM’S BULLY, by Little-kiss

The line we cross, meander, blur.
The harried distinction we draw,
Of justice in white and black.
Is there fault? Displaced blame?
Or just pain?


The drag of anger: red rage consuming.
The crush of fear: static, smothering.
The words we spout, and hide behind.
Running from knowledge of the other,
Of complexity, conveniently warped, simplified.

In denial we unite,
To conceal each other’s flaws,
To cower in our injury, rightness implied.
But the victim and the bully share masks
And the human being beneath
Cannot be classified.

~The Victim’s Bully, by Little-kiss

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