taps a finger
on the table.
your right hand
claws through your hair.
your inhale,
exhale,
destroys the feeble walls
you've used to guard yourself.
he
did not build your walls,
he
did not design your expectations
and he
did not create your fragile heart.
he
did not ask to be anything
other than another someone.
memories,
creeping through your skin
making it so that
sanity and insanity are one
and the only thing that makes sense
is
nothing
and you blame others
who give a shit about you.
but you claw that right hand
and you rip at your scalp.
and you turn that left hand
into a fist
and unapologetically
beat the table.
with
salty,
blinded,
mascara tears
that guilt,
and curse,
and are found
misplaced.
▲natt
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