Guilt shows up in my dreams some nights.
She's riding behind a thug on a motorcycle.
Last night they were ahead of me
In the drive thru at mcdonalds.
When she sees it's me,
She smiles a disgusted "oh it's ole easy mark" smile,
And hikes her leg way up and over off the back of the cycle
And swaggers back to give me hell.
"Don't you think
After what you've done to me
You ought to buy me an apple pie?" She starts in, hitting one fist in the palm of her hand
To show me her brass knuckles modified with steel spikes,
"Like ya did last time."
She finishes by putting her foot on my bumper
And pretends to
Pull up her sock.
Then, while smiling
Like a game show girl,
She displays with flare the razors in her shoe.

 "I'm gonna hurt you," she growls.

But I know I'm just about done with her,
Because I'm not scared,
Just pissed.
And she's made the mistake of letting it slip in all her rambling threats
That she's already served time for two convictions,
And if she gets a third felony,
She's going away for life.

I'm tempted to let her hit me,
Just so I can press charges.
I'm also tempted to
Kick her in the face.
I think I'm so mad this time
I just might be able to take her.

I'm sizing her up.
I'm sure not gonna buy her a goddamn apple pie again.

-jenn