I knew what was happening before it really happened. The personification of a bad idea, the dirty thought in a nice clean mind. I let my guard down in an attempt to dispel an anxiety built on fear and judgment when I should have listened to my gut, should've walked a different line, kept my eyes open all the time. Turns out, some things have nothing to do with paths.
All they wanted were my things, score some cash and move on, though it feels more like an orange crush than just a stupid orange clutch. I want to refuse to lose faith in my strength, but in this moment I am swallowed. I've been through worse than this. More humiliating and humbling times than this. This is a mere moment among moments full of hatred and its many minions. I don't have the strength to write a letter to love, only one to a shallow place.
Dear Band of Thieves,
Did it make you feel like a man? Like a big-dick man, to grab my things and run? Wearing all black like some night demon out to put terror in my heart. I've battled demons a long time and you won't scare me. I look forward to karma coming back to rip the guts from your yellow belly. I hope someone knocks your goddamn teeth out. Makes that shit-eating grin of victory crack out of your mouth and tumble down your ugly mug. I hope you see my face every morning when you open your eyes and choke on the taste of what you destroyed.
It must be hard to be such a wretched cad. Sneaking up on a woman alone at night to snatch the purse from her hands all for a few cheap bucks... Get a job your delinquent fuck. Drop a sack and earn it because you deserve it, not because you and your dirt-eating comrades have nothing better to do.
Good luck with your cowardice,