rage, jealousy and other such shit

i unraveled over pieces and parts
of glass shards spread by your hands
and writhed in masochistic self-sadistic silent
agony,
in hopes of retributionrestitutioncompensation
obliteration of humiliation–
exoneration by my own sword
from the crime of imagining comparisons
to poems about old men with jellybeans
to crafts like these would suffice;

“after what carissima said i cannot hope to speak,
but if you hear my breath catch” (know that)
“you are caught in the web.”

i said it all when i refused to say that
(aloud, anyway)

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