leave
thoughts take up daylight clouding my vision and fading the only thing i have to hold onto
but she is lying
i know that
perfectly packaged material arrives everyday strategically shared to paint a picture.
i’m the emotional artist
get out of my studio and save the sales pitch for the finger fuck suit down the hall who sips steady shots of alcohol (he knows them all) and i can’t twist anymore with these images of time left open and the draft that came through only kept me in the know of what travesties you were trying to take back from the waking world reality we all live in
those were my words
the ones you carefully jotted in a notebook for everyone to see
those were my words
the ones i flung out before considering drenched in a tear filled raw exchange of exactly how i was feeling
i feel
you think
throw the fucking last years in with the kitchen sink
here it all comes
how do i get your attention to see the world isn’t planned and pleated, written and deleted
before presentation
my walk is my pitch
i will never switch to save my own face
i could care less what i look like
honesty is ugly
the roots dig deeper and i become immovable
there’s a breeze
i sway
you break
good bye