there’s
something
comforting
about
the
vacancy
in
­my
heart

you read my poem
out loud, to me
and it was awful

words i carefully pieced together
transformed to an inept mess
coming from your mouth

my stomach turned inside out
as my familiar, finicky stanzas
became clumsy strangers

i almost wanted to cover my ears
to escape my art that began to
sound like amateurish trash

however, there was not one ounce
of mockery in your tone
as you recited my poetry

you were quite impressed
but it was awful because
you read my poem
to my biggest critic

29.04.20