A Rebuttal, of Sorts ️

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. 

What you cannot know 

Keeps you



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.

And 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. 

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 little light,

a testament 

to the fire hazard I have always been.


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