you say you’ve changed, but i don't see it in your plastic wails.
you only say “sorry” to avoid the burden of guilt, only to
press the foot that you placed on my back even harder.
i can still feel the silent venom of your words, to me
or not. do not take me as idiotic, because even
though this vessel of ragged skin and bone cannot
hold up physically for himself, he has learned
not to trust those who shed snake tears.
i’m not to be fooled, i’ve been fed poison from strangers
since the day i came into adolescence - all because of one thing, myself.
and it comes to life - the thought that those who judge others
are nothing short of their remarks. so, call me feminine and fragile
behind my back and act as if my ears deceive me - but they
don’t, and serpents like you i won't fall easily prey to. and easy
prey i may be, but not to be captivated in the hands of you.