i know its not fair
but i must ask of you
how did i get here?
why am i at the place where i
recede in conversations
as my words stumble out limping
and the awkwardness is palpable
and my syllables burn newspapers
to ashes at my feet
where I'm surrounded by bodies
breathing in and out
and yet we are so different
we all want different things
and my past punches me in the face
slaps me
as if it wasn't enough the first time
the sting left on my face was plenty a reminder
the sting left on my face was plenty of a reminder
and it echoes
in the darkness
as i type
my tears away