I am bound by the crooked in my smile.
Happiness displayed always as a contorted reality of who I am.
My grin does not eat shit and it has certainly had enough of yours.
It is appalling how much you have yet to know of me.
I do not put sugar in my coffee, nor do I drink it black.
I inject it, straight into my veins; slow was never my way to remain safe. My cup is always full.
There are more than two butts in any half-hour increment of my life. And this rebuttal is only half of why
My pen rests comfortably on the only fuck you I have left.
I did taste you on the lovers we have shared,
as they spit their remaining bitterness in my direction.
I took it gladly, because it matched my own.
That is what we had in common, them and I.
A mutual distaste and mistrust for you.
But as time passed as time always does,
my ability to see you as human drew a line
between them and I.
In the beginning
I needed someone to confirm
that you were a downgrade for her.
Triumph was knowing that I was better for her.
In trying to understand you,
I discovered who I am.
With her, you were putting
the wrong pieces together,
because it was what worked at the time.
With him, I was learning
that not everything I didn’t understand
needed my questioning or approval.
You want to know if this is hatred or curiosity, it is neither.
And this is not about you.
Fear is all I have left. And all that is,
is false evidence appearing real.
A constant silent weeping for the moments
I have lost; that were never even mine.
Fear not that you will return, but
that you have not left and you will not go.
Yes, I have thought of the rooms of my house you have been in.
The one space that you wanted into the most
was the one I was most careful with the lock.
The long dark corridors of my heart
were no match for your wandering.
I left a candle burning deep inside;
a testament to the fire hazard I have always been.