The Abuser

This is not poetry
Definitely not a song
That I want to sing
Better call it a riot
Progressing forward
Designed to sting
An attention seeker, yes!
Here, there, everywhere!
Talking about the holy spirit
Getting shaped by it
Still full of disgust, and error
You take the long road home
Get there and bounce
A woman’s honor
Never for once wondering
What initially got you here
You got to be Here
And were then Gone
Still couldn’t derive
How to obey the space and time
You just wrote of
And oh, woe is she?
Another target?
Hit and leave her then
In her misery
Scare her away when
She’s full of grief
Trying to let it out, she’s
Desperately trying to heal
And you talking of holy Mary
Comment full of shit
Slowly try to peel
Leave out scars
One can never heal
Man, your talks are
Full of illusions
Of you being the abused
When you really are the abuser
Making them wear your mask
Of blind obedience
But can’t spell it right
While naming names
Not asking for consent
Playing games, then
Talk of God’s purpose
And this here, is a riot
Non violent, no expletives
No God’s words, no preaching
No naming names
But yes, playing your game
Yes, trying to haunt-a creep
Not just once or twice
But at least FIFTEEN times..