An Explination Poem by Rebekah Gamble

It's self-defense.
They were raped, burned,
babies were used as targets for guns,
mothers were murdered in front
of children,
babies were cut out of pregnant women-
but how would hurting
for the unchangeable past
help anyone?
Help me? Why hurt?
Nothing hurts and nothing bleeds
with windows locked up tight.
Silence drips
but tears don't fall-
for what is there to fight?
It's self-defense.
Emotionless.
Nothing. Hurts.
Nothing. Bleeds.
Humans as specimens?
A face in a jar?
A face in a jar.
Unbleeding, unfeeling,
as the perfect self-defense.

written 3.2o.o7