not with these fists

of raw emotion,

can I dent your memory. . .

you still abound.

not with these fists

of years straight forward,

can I smash your visage. . .

you’re still around.

not with this hammer

of hard life turned better,

of my bright future. . .

can I break you down.

not with this hammer

of posted letters,

of honest reprisal. . .

I can’t break you down.

not with this ball

this wrecking ball,

that I’ve built of pretty words. . .

can I tear you down.

not with this ball

this fucking ball,

that lays all else to ruin. . .

can I tear you down.

you were a path too insensible to tread

now you are invincible. . . and not dead

damn you!

not with my blood

spilled in your name

would you get the message. . . 

that I want out.

not with these words

or any others

can I keep from being. . .

so broken down.