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Gary Schutt
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Act of Sympathy
My closet keeps me safe from your reach.
A little whiskey in the morning.
A vile of crack before you go to bed.
My domestic prison eats away at my head.
Secreting eyes trace your every move.
By the nightlight in the hall.
I see your silhouette swallow my door.
I'm under minimal protection, young and alone in your world.
Strike me, smite me, make me heed to your act of sympathy.
Scold me, throw me to my knees. Do your act of sympathy.
Some live with anger. I live with fear.
I hope that mommy's O.K. lying dead on the kitchen floor.
I lock myself in my room as little sister licks the bathroom door.
Strike me, smite me, make me heed to your act of sympathy.
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Scold me, throw me to my knees. Do your act of sympathy.
Can't tell the dream from he real.
Is this the way I should feel?
Can't you see what you've done?
Another battered child on the run.
If I should look outside your world, you'd understand.
After the onslaught of your words and the back of your hand.
Strike me, smite me, make me heed to your act of sympathy.
Scold me, throw me to my knees. Do your act of sympathy.
Mold me, form me, subject me to your act of sympathy.
Hold me, love me, hear my plea. Stop your act of sympathy.
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