The Beater and the Beaten

I went off on some fucking asshole
and showed him what’s what
I didn’t hold back any punches
and wielded my words to cut.

And so I cut him, into pieces
and he was deeply defeated
and it showed in his face and down
turned head
that mutha fucka sure was dead.

And as I gazed over his defeat
and scanned the horizon above the beat
and caught my breath and righteousness
I flexed my chest and blew a kiss.

And as I walked, head high, away
every step I took kept love at bay
and with each I became more lost
my righteousness has such a cost.

And in the instance of my delusion
with each step grew my confusion
something happened
I don’t want to see
that it’s me that took a bruising.

I do not want to see it
I do not want to feel it
I do not want to understand
how I lift a violent hand.

I do not want to feel
the depth of my own pain
I do not want to see my
unpuzzled true reign.

But my, my, my…
my friends
there’s only one answer
and it has no end
it’s the journey of you
a step turned in
away from the world
to where truth lives.

And in an instant you’ll be defeated
on such a level
you’ve been so mistreated
but surprise, surprise
what you’ve deleted
Is that you’re the beater
and the beaten.

My poor child, it’s only you,
my courageous one
yes, it’s true
you’re the beater
and the beaten
and you beat first
your open heart
before you begin to start
beating another
far away, out there,
you beat yourself,
you don’t know
you don’t care.

But this last beating
is your final defeat
the one you beat
could not be hidden
and as you hacked
and pounded at them
and ripped their skin
with molten words
meant to burn and corrode
and scortch
with just a pile of smoking waste
left before you, egoic haste

Something happened
and you finally faced
that all your violence and all your rage
directed at something away
is the biggest lie ever played
and played on you
(and every one of us)
that what you strike
is what you love
and what you kill
is what you want
and what you fear
is what is dear
and every time you strike with words
(or the weapon that works best for you)
you strike your heart
you strike what’s true
you strike yourself
you kill yourself
you hate yourself
you beat yourself
you are hateful to yourself.

We are not separate
no matter how hard we try
separateness is the biggest lie
you strike me
it’s you who dies
my love, my love
please open your eyes.

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