~~For You~~

It was always
too much,
never enough--
to ask,
to give
I am
always
uncertain:
what desires,
behind those fearful
eyes hide?
Hold out
your hands,
but I don't
understand your
cries--
would you that
I wound,
that I heal?
Can you feel
anymore,
have I numbed you
as once you asked,
as never
you commanded
quietly?
That smile--
yes,
so pleased;
so endearing
like razor caress
of the scars
you now bear.
Such a laugh--
indeed,
satisfied as my sadness;
so I cry in my joy
that you've come
and you've seen,
that you no
longer
scream
when you're kissed
by the wire,
and instead
you feel ease
from the snap
of the fire.
Cruelty,
they name it
for the marks
on your wrists
(you were almost
quite ready
to once
self-inflict)--
so callous,
the label
abuse,
and untrue. . .

can the
madmen
not see,
it was all done
for you?


~~(c) ??/?? The Mad Poet (A.K. LaBelle)