Shove It

“What a mind”
You had said to me.
I might’ve just been stung,
By the venom of a bee.

I bore my soul.
Completely undressed.
All of me before you,
In the flesh.

It’s not a hobby,
It’s my life blood.

I mean,
Fuck.

This is my very essence,
Spilled out on the page.
It’s not a party trick,
This isn’t some stage.

I guess you’re jaded,
As a symptom of age.
But this is my great love,
So please excuse the rage.

But it’s my very being,
My fucking heart made out of ink.
Not just a sip,
But the whole goddamn drink.


Pretty revealing,
Don’t you think?

Tell me,
Does my soul float,
Or does it sink?

Is it new?
Is it ancient?

Is it kind?
Is it patient?

I showed you all of it.

God.

Empathy’s out of the budget.
Guess I’m just a word puppet.

Well guess what?
You can shove it.

At least,
Then,
I’d get to write about it.