i didn’t believe in the evil of man.
how i grew up–
evil was like the loch ness monster,
like big foot,
like getting rich
because you wished on a star
… it didn’t exist.
if a person was bad they felt bad about
if they did something to hurt someone else, it
was a mistake or sign of desperation.
then i was alone with a wall for company,
realities hitting my head like gigantic bumble bees.
if my soul had knees, i fell to them — sight opened
on how deeply the human mind can hate; on how far
into evil designs will play.
then the begging God continually for forgiveness made sense,
the hope to not be dealt the same cards
you yourself were handing out left and right.
part of me died that day — staring at the wall;
considering notes and points of evil. part of me
realized that when worst fears come true, there is
another waiting. i saw every reality at once,
knew that if man discovered eternity in life
— he would use that to eternally
harm another man. another human. but it was
the groups of many
focused on pinching the few or the one.
i saw the real applications of medicine and i feared for myself for the first time.
evil became less of a question in my mind, but a deepening fact. when
you see that done to yourself, an eternity of
pain simply because hope left redemption fighting
a little harder …
it’s like staring at forever in a changing portrait of evil, expanding
despair to each extent of
understanding. there becomes a natural downturn to your mouth,
a hardness. it is a secret within,
where everything once was open; a consideration
that is only as wide as your own struggling intellect, a secret never shared.
never passed along. everyone will guess what is behind
your eyes, but no one will find your vision.
because you know evil.
man only dreams of heaven because he created hell.