Wishful Thinking

I watch
As in slow motion
My fist makes contact with your face
And as you continue to talk at me
Unaware of my dislike of you
I repeat the punch again and again.
I watch your cheek ripple
And the sliver of spit fly out the side of your mouth
My karate kick to the groin
Unbalances you
And you crumble and fall
Dismayed at my display of violence
So small, yet so strong.
I wish I had the balls
To tell you to fuck off
Or at least the gumption
To get up and walk away
I wish I had the power
To will my mobile phone to ring
With an “important call”
But I don’t.
So I smile politely, pretend I’m listening
And repeat that punch in my head.

© Aisling Doherty


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