Hey, even if your world stops now,
it wouldn’t mean anything. I’m sad to say,
because all splashes are ripples from the distance
—then rings of waves…
Turn them a deaf ear.
I figured it out; now I’m tired.
I’m putting my arms down and turning away.
And the sound? I’m sure there are mouths moving
but I can’t hear anything. Not today…
Get it off my back.
I’m bruise-blue from all my abuses.
«She was the queen of the mistakes,»
I was told by everyone,
«Until you made her a saint.»