Going
I've been mugged by words. Held up against a wall and had sharp commas pressed against the thin skin of my neck. I've been tortured by pairs of colons tearing into my night eyes. Those syllables like urban gangs, circling me and taunting me, then swarming my frail self and beating my bones till I'm broken and forlorn. Those words teamed with crazy punctuation abhor me. Their wish to ruin me upon a streaked and bloodied page. I hurt from these written posts, but I heal in my own way. That's another story, a crazy comma has come my way.