Apart

More than a dozen prickling


words attack my body


little by little.


Some assault my face,


my nose, my lips, my eyes.


Several of 'em cut


through my head.


A few gash my arms and


a couple stab my chest.


I could feel the


piercing pain on my palms,


still suffer the sting


on my feet.


Bit by bit


those tiny bullets


you shoot at me


rip me to pieces.