There is something particularly unnerving

when we exist in 2 places at once

I find it incredibly discerning

we shapeshift to align with our lies

we keep our name and composure

we walk with our little heads high, 

but behind us is a trail of bodies

of those we sacrificed to live this life. 

 

They were suffocated by screams

we could have easily heard 

but they were loud and ugly

so I left them in the dirt. 

 

Ocassionaly it gets messy, 

then we find something new and shiny

that reminds us of who we used to be

before our hands were so bloody

they see us with fresh eyes .

 

We play a pretty part and we mean it for a second

but then our old habits creep up on us 

we fall into old patterns

I hear them call out occasionally.

 

 Baby tells me I'm not the problem 
with her big doe eyes,
I left out a few pieces of the story
but she believes me
for that I love her dearly,
but then baby becomes another corpse I bury

you could warn her
but good old fashioned
internalised misongony wins everytime
imagine if we believed women
you could have spared her life.