The motions of your lips as they wrap around the words you say. Respectively disrespecting every piece of fact as fiction that no one knows what to live in anxiety is like.
What it's like?
What is anger but the misguided targeting system of a fathers hand to his sons face.
What is denial but a sweet cherry with a pit you chew on remorsefully. The sadness you feel is a bitter memory of every memory you had standing next to me.
like confectioner sugar
like snow in the worst of storms.
You covered us up like a scandal for double homicide when in actuality you left wounded
I lay on the ground gripping my skull hoping it would end.
What was the point of all the sweet words you spoke,
when you left with a wet cheek and raw throat