Were just on the outside.
Inside was hollow.
There was a rush of cool air
As he entered the house
And the world closed behind him.
His thumb and fingers trembled
With the photo between them,
His face wet with regret.
I am a monster, he said to the therapist.
She looked down with him at the boy
In the photo and then at the boy in the chair
Across from her.
She said: we all are.
No, he said, I'm worse than anyone.
I don't think that's true, she said to him,
And he looked up with tears in his eyes.
You weren't there, he said, his eyes far away.
He left the house
With blood up to his elbows,
His feet loud on the pavement
All the way home.
He prayed to god that someone
Would stop him,
But no one did.