someone asked me if i was high the other day,
and i said no without qualms but i didn’t
tell them how that made me feel
or how i felt about it in general.

you’re judgemental enough on your own,
so why give someone like you
something like my thoughts?
you’ve never looked past
superficial for sources for your sneers,
and i don’t think you deserve consideration now.

i may have bruises on my arms,
but you lost your chance to do more
than judge me by my scars.
healing starts, but your eyes
rip open fresh wounds
over and over and i won’t
have all that i’ve worked for undone
by the cynics that rule the glints in your eye.

i’m not admitting that your betrayal
might have been easier last summer,
but i’ve also moved on in more ways than one.


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