No One Can Really Say

Sure, she might have been born with mirror
neurons fucked; this could explain the indifference

in minor human actions that make other girls swoon:
a curl of dark hair with a strong finger, the cool lean,
a gaze with an asymmetric smirk attached.

But maybe she got nurtured into not caring. No one
gave two of anything about her, ‘so, fuck it,’ she doesn’t
care now either. Does this explain the cleaver
(used mostly for animal meat) instead seen here
embedded in an ex-lover’s skull? It could.

Things would have had to have gotten drastic at an early
age. No one can really say. Maybe she just got one
too many black eyes, and picking up the blade was
easier than packing the suitcase, filling up the sedan.

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