Tonight
I am going to make love to myself, to remind myself of
What I feel like.
I will hike
To the summit of my
Entirety
And entirely
******
On the ****** of my
Truths

A full glass of "how could you's?"
Nine fork lifts of "I told you so's" to fill out
Beside the "maybe's" and "hope to be's"
A napkin stitched with "your loss" in continuous patterns
It's no use, no good, I know I misunderstood but
I'd rather starve than awake to this judgmental breakfast.