B & E

Once invaded, 
a home becomes
a broken promise.

Once breached, 
walls and doors become
dark, porous lies
and windows turn into
lesions to be healed.

Maybe
whoever did this
needed the money.
Maybe
whoever did this
needed it more 
than I did — 

but all my voices urge me 
to soften my caring,
harden my heart,
put aside 
anything within 
that’s akin 
to compassion,
join the rest of us
in suspicion and fear
of what’s outside — saying

all the things I hate to hear.

It will take a long time
before I can ignore them enough
to be me again.