A terrorist lives
inside of me.
Every time
I abuse someone
Every time
I slam a door.

Or preach
‘Why can’t you….’
Or shout,
‘How dare he!’
And hug my

Every time
I curse
in impatience.
Point my finger
in shrill,
indignant protest
or snigger
at some misfortune
of another.

Every time I think
‘serves him right!’
Every time I shout –
for peace.
Or say something
I don’t mean.

Yes, there’s a terrorist
sitting smug
inside of me
I need
to get
to know her.