I punched myself in the face

For no reason I could fathom

Then turned to my friend and said

“Why’d you go and do that?”

“Whaddaya mean? You did it!”

“You made me with your stupidity

You nsfw me with your ugliness

You made me with you hateful ways”

And so it went for days and days

Until I screamed “fight back!

Are you a coward? Are you pathetic?

Hit me hit me hit me hit me”

“I can’t do that” frustratingly calm

“WHY OH WHY OH WHY OH WHY?”

“You’re hurting enough for two

And pain wants pain wants pain

It looks for targets nearby to blame

But the pain keeps rolling over you

And I won’t add to it but I’ll take it

If I can”

Violence is never the answer

But Bukowski wrote Barfly

And kicked many an ass

In his day…

I was never a pacifist

I’ve shot .22, .30, .357, .45

Hell I’ve thrown grenades

And blown the fuck out of cars

With machine guns;

I’ve fought in the ring

And spent four years

Being taught to dehumanize

Being taught how to kill

To what end?

It was too late to stop the bastards…

Those innocence stealing demons

Would have had it coming

Those mother beating monsters,

Wouldn’t have been missed.

No…I locked it all away

In a secret place deep down

But I keep them all oiled

In case the evil comes back

Because there’s a curse

In never forgetting