I may not have good reason to hit her but I do.
Stretch my arm back with fisted hands,
loose in reality but strong with intention.
And I swung.
Blood spewed from her
lips.
The lips that spoke ill words of issues
she would never experience
like I had. Like people had;
real people.

I dreamt this.
It felt like a scene from a movie.
You think its real and then you
remember.
They are hired
And rehearsed
And arrogant
And real
Not real like the movie, real like you.
If you had a lot of money and still looked pretty after a shower,
or a sex scene.
Hair tucked and pinned,
unnaturally calm.
Not the way you feel after sex
or a fight with zombies or robbers or whatever.

She wouldn’t shut up,
so like a movie in my mind
I hit her.
For being ignorant.
I should have really hit her
but she was born that way.
Void of information
or void of reason to seek information
for what she feels like ranting
and bitching
and raving about,
So I don’t hit her, but the overpaid actor in my mind sure does.