fables of how we met and
false expressions.
i keep replaying “no” over
and over in my head.
my heart is a jungle:
vitriolic and slaughtering herself.
I’m a cage and my grief
always turns to rage
like acid turns to rain and
rushes through my spinal fluid
so I stand up straight.

I walk proud and tall and
wear your veneers like a mask.

I sneer at the creeks of
red beneath me.
all my men in pieces at my feet,
bowing.

“Hecate”

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