Answering Back

Had something weird happen, it was not weird: don’t believe
everything you leave, which makes me wince. I am completely unsure of this,
not inside. I feel the hesitation of not knowing and push through, which means
repeat sounds yes—a bit more wincing—
but revealing demons, so put—

only we are talking to ourselves: that wasn’t so bad

was it: look at the fun I’m having now. I scare myself with how silent I am. I don’t
think anything and there is not such depth
to your old relationships, after all. After all, this
is still here, your twisted fabric
on your best days. Can you see an argument? Nor me.