If only you could crawl away,
and far away, survive–
If only I were unaware
that you were there, then I
could stay my hand and not decide
to make you live or let you die.
But I am not so unaware,
and you are not so over there,
but choose instead to penetrate my space.
And I must choose to win or lose,
and how to squash the challenges I face.
How easily I plot demise!
How readily I’d love to see you die.
How trifling to justify
the murder of one so less alive than I.