Before Me
Whenever somebody fills me
with white hot ire,
I will not focus on their cracks.
Faces destroyed by unmet dreams and desires.
I will imagine them before me—
taking the form of their inner child,
just oh so little… a tiny, little thing.
Unbroken and breakable,
undeserving of belittling.
“What broke you?” I will ask them.
The decay. The decay.
The decay of their dreams.
I see it on every face.