I got a good day today—
a jab, they’d say, wrapped in silk and shade.
Too unique, too bold,
both fashionably and workwise—they said.

I simply rolled my eyes,
chin lifted to the sky,
and answered, cool and flat:
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

Which really meant,
I don’t give a crap—
not now, not ever,
no space in my mental map.

Still, it might echo an hour later,
not from pain,
but as a compliment wearing satire.
Ask me at dusk if I remember—

Maybe I will,
maybe I won’t.
My subconscious filters waste,
like silk through a comb.

It’s how I am,
how I stay sane,
a mind that lets go,
without needing to explain.