You Don’t Know

You don’t know what I can do with your silence.

I can rip out your tongue and twist your own violence.

You don’t know what I can do with your pride.

I can sweep up your truth and say that you lied.

You don’t know what I can do with your mind.

I can shut the gears down like a clock that won’t wind.

You don’t know what I can do with your rage.

I can burn the whole book or just turn the page.

You don’t know what I can do with your soul.

I can open the door and kick you down that black hole.

You don’t know what I can do with my voice.

I write it down because I don’t have a choice.

I don’t enjoy seeing grown men weep.

But if you slap me again, I can put you to sleep.

I choose not fight, as it may stand.

I reckon you’ll know it like the back of your hand.

You don’t know what I can do with your fear.

All I know is that the cycle stops here.

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