Five fingers starred and angled, stretched like an atom.
Words only mean something with intent.
I wish I could open them and scoop out your lies …
We look at someone centered. Viewing their middle.
Sometimes I stand above them. Behind them.
Pain trumps pain in the mind of a jester.
Wounds never heal in those who let them fester.
Patterson led me to being the Queen, but in the end the path spells fool.
I’ll juggle your issues. I’ll keep them afloat. I’ll drown in your depression.
I’ll wear it like a coat.
One day you’ll be better. But I’ll still have my crown. Sitting on my throne with my heart speared on the scepter.
Someone will say, “You could have done anything and kept her.”
Take the tomato and throw it at me now, because our love is rotten and all peasants fall down.