I'm not my Culture's finger puppet

I'm with Jade walking home
and fifteen balaclavas get off the C11

can you say you were chased
if you were frozen
if you didn’t even run?

b-e-a-t-i-n-g
r-e-p-e-a-t-e-d
relay bruises
in the spelling
now pain
is an echo
but to even look at
the pavement stone
hurts my back

It’s easier now.
(no boot dodging)
(buttons popping)
It's the past now
(Oh no! That's hilarious)

We talk about heartbreak and
the type of pain that kills you
We steer clear of the pain
that makes you beg for life

a wet dog finally inside
a room with nice lighting
Of darlings and babes.

Since that time I froze
I’ve got better at running away.

There’s a strain of violence
that’s pure
and I thought that purity
was noble

A week ago I went back to my old church my old stomping grounds my old home with my old people my old sparring partners my old priests my old choir boys my old friends speaking my old language- throwing hooks into shadows, throwingropes over heads over and over again I was in the middle and it sounded like the marching of a hundred men, sweating, working so hard to be in the same state.

Not me mate.
not me mate. sorry.
There’s no coming back
from when you get hit and you’re scared. 
And there’s no going back
once your mind draws that line in the sand.