When I left you it wasn't malice, not bad ice, the kind that comes as a knife in the back, twisted without tear. It was what I call "bonice," good ice, the kind I need to protect those I love and myself from your capricious harm. I'm okay with my intentions, of what I did and why, because it was rooted in love. Judging actions is for fools; only the wise see the real reasons beneath, see the person in pain and the troubles they navigate with the wisdom of a sea captain.