from the porch, the best medicine

laugh at the current state of affairs

remember it’s not yours or theirs

it’s the ones who place a comma at the end of a sentence, continuing the conversation with a pause

reflect

genuflect before the giant who is eating your lunch while you ponder the fact that he may be hungry

fuck empathy

i’m tired of your perspective and can’t afford another seat at this table where we pretend every opinion has a place

get the fuck up

hurry

and leave

or i should

yet, this is my problem

being polite

you don’t deserve me holding the door

i can’t say ‘bless you’

allowing you to utter a word compromises every bit of integrity i act like matters while we spin antique platters alone in a room, grabbing myself while i imagine my slaves bowing to the genius that was lucky enough to be spat out in a place and time that caters to my appearance

i can’t chuckle

embarrassment is meant to shy away from

not lean into

a fire

waiting to lick our faces with the flames

of ignorance

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