Proportion is the fear.
Was there enough offense
to justify my becoming
a car wrapped around a tree?
Was there enough rain
to flow over the bridge
between your heart and mine?
Was there enough gravity
bringing me so far down
that the anthill really did tower?

See, I’ve been sorely lacking in positivity lately
while you became a devil in the negative
conjuring and releasing this vicious heart storm,
but humans rarely set out to hurt other humans.
More than likely, you laughed over this simple thing
and just didn’t notice the joke didn’t land.
Such is the nature of much of what’s offensive.
It’s so crucial to pay attention to other’s reactions
just in case their perception carries
a wildly different weight than what you’re expectin’.

For me, you were not just a simple thing,
yet it’s my duty to understand your direction,
where you are and did not intend to go
before I can accordingly respond.
I’ll admit your innocence in ignorance,
my lack of need of anything more than apologies,
then in the interest of moving forward together
I’ll open up my spirit of many pains,
exposing the soul of every boulder that builds
this mountain I can’t seem to climb by myself.