I am my torturer
what about you?
all those things
I didn’t mean to do
I wanted the truth
all I got was pain
until it seemed
that was all that remained
that’s the truth
it was easy to do
I don’t need to explain
if I were to do it to you
it would be a crime
but it’s always me
striking from behind
I practise every day
|strapped down onto me
win another questionable victory
the victim
the torturer always reversed
each role well rehearsed
it all is just
one more unanswerable reality
here’s the thing
assume I am you
and you are me
and we are bound
by ignorance
endless violence
random moments
and everything is only
remorseless causality
Peterborough Poets 