At all.

He played the switch again today.
How expertly he twists it.
I saw it clear. Is that progress?
So many years, I missed it.
The look of hurt, of wounded soul.
As if it was not what he meant at all.

It comes without apology.
It comes just to set his burden free.
It comes to wrack your heart with guilt.
Mine already clogged with his emotional silt.

He played the switch again today.
How expertly he twists it.
I saw it clear, but still felt guilt.
The untainted heart, I miss it.
The gift of guilt, of damaged soul.
As if it was not what he meant at all.