Things You Could Do That Would Hurt me More

Rip through my flesh
- anywhere, no need to be picky -
with a medium quality knife
like from one of those red handled sets Target sells.
Pour whatever stings most into the wound;
you'd know better than me.
Sew me back up slowly with a thick, rusty needle,
while some of the worst songs ever recorded are playing
like Bette Davis Eyes
or almost anything by Michael Bolton.

Put together a montage of video clips
of gut-wrenching cruelties,
the abject horrors that crush my soul
-racism, cruelty to animals, bullying-
and force me to watch every second,
while mockingly offering me buttered popcorn

Listen to my side of the story:
hear the facts without the spin.
Understand the circumstances.
See the good in my heart,
and the lack of malice
behind one clumsy indiscretion
which I would never repeat.

Do those simple things,

and then still continue to shun me.