listen

you were an easy read

the first time… seventeenth… ninety-ninth…

always the same

never a mystery

never complex or nuanced

you showed us you don’t know

what love is

how to give it generously and

without reservation

how to receive it with humility and grace

you showed us you’re willing

to say anything at any time

apropos of nothing at all

relevant to even less

without regard to the truth

you showed us your true colors

though you thought yourself sly

a fox in a henhouse

a parasite in wolf costume

a cancer unwittingly invited in

you showed us your “scars”

interjected your lies to prove

you’re interesting too. raised your voice

because the louder you say it

the more credible you must be

we saw through you

see through you still

not interesting or unique

not even if your bleeding was real

not even if your writing said anything

your audacious bluster

a feeble old man behind a curtain

desperate to be taken seriously

determined to define legitimacy

flailing wildly, failing spectacularly

baby, you’re clinging to scraps

in the end, thinking you’ve the higher ground

that you don’t do down

you may rise, but your lies will eventually

drag you down again