The hum of the phone buzzes with the height of the he said, she said ordeal.
The anger escalates, and understanding dissipates as injustice rings its bell.
Suddenly that person, that immortal, that soul, has found its way under your skin
And a momentary slight that they have forgotten is written like a scar on your hand
So rather than cleanse it with grace and forgiveness, you’ve dug it out to let it burn
And the love with which you might have clothed the recipient of the he said, she said,
Is exchanged for a coat of crocodile skin.