Trust Only the City
today a sheet of snow has adorned my warm haven, fully opaque
shoveled against my bones in an attempt to shake me awake
from a nightmare where the real looked identical to the fake
where sex was worth the love that you risked for its sinful sake
I wouldn’t dare call my pessimistic self brave
but at least when you kissed her she knew not to cave
she knew not to let you dig her freed soul a grave
in fact, she knew all along you were not a martyr or a slave
dear God, I need to stop calling her “she” when she’s me
the foolish one willingly trapped under the debris
although I can only take blame to a fraction of a degree
the rest is on you… whoever “you” may be
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