She found me again
Her bushy eyebrows and hair too frizzy
Insecurity and fear her eyeliner
'no one responded to you'
'you know you talk too much'
'you think you know it all'
'do you think you know it all?'
I scream out the word no
All that tumbles out is I'm sorry
Because I cannot explain just how
Any and all dialogue has to be backed
By an army of information
And even when you think you're free
You justify why you needed to escape.
YOU ARE READING
Processing
PoetryA collection of poetry across ages, moments, and confusion. Tw - read at own desire
