i’ve decided i’m letting it all shatter.

i can’t just look like this, all the time –
acting like i’m full of love and sea salt.

i’m so sick of building roads to my heart like
i’m some ******* harlot. (wait,
i am some ******* harlot.)

wait, why do i keep catching
your smell at the back of my throat?
who said you could be there loving me – ?
certainly not i.

maybe i should have told you all this
before baby, it’s etched into my seams.
“i am *****” and i am not
stopping.

everyone pretends to loves a *****
and right now pretending is
good enough
for me.