When Shit Stops Happening, You're Going the Right Direction

Every nasty name I wanna call you

won't fit inside my mouth

Hence

The Arsenal:

Mace

Pepper spray

Sharpened steel/oakwood long staff/chain whip/

wooden cake spoon that—uh huh —my grandma swung

with pinpoint accuracy

and hellur bite (you’d lose your ass)

Military grade artillery would land

me

us

jeeeeeeeeez

on the backhand of legislation

yet

ain't enough lousy mildewy sides

to show pseudo-men and moral degenerates

that abuse

violate

prey on

women and girls

who never again retrieve

innocence-cleansing-wholeness

who hemorrhage night terrors

through surround sound systems

with zero access to a single goddamn settings control

But literal dickheads sleep

while pus-encrusted infection permeates nature

sense and genesis-soul

for remainder of daze

Prison as a sentence

carries not enough ‘justice iota’ gravitas

(taxpayer expense subsidy and all)

and for me begins

at 'eye for eye'

'life for life'

not choreographed credentials behind closed doors

to filter meted punishment

through internationally-approved sanitized lenses

compliant with human rights policy

but comprehensively dismissive of

‘a deterrent not deterrent enough’

Not in the least protective

of the one Creatrix

responsible for birthing more humanity

Let Her

alone deliver judgment

Kindest thanks to you for reading all the words I did not say for the "Things You Can't Say Out Loud" Vocal Challenge.