“Paint your own pictures. Masterpieces. Hang them. Invite him over to see. Watch his jaw hang. So you’re good, he says. Threatens to steal. Your creations. Your life.”
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the needle skips, you pour more salt. i’m not fucking listening, / i promise. throw scripture into static—rip
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They took the child you once were before you were even born. They robbed her with their laws and their stares and their whistles, kicked her down and she could never dream, no, not even in my arms as I waited for the other you, the dead you, to come back for her.
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