The No-Good Girl

You are no good — the girl with too many words and not enough mouth. You thought to break open the silence, but only broke yourself. Who told you that your bones were strong enough for this? Who told you chin up, shoulders back? Who told you fight? Did they not hear the way your jaw cracked at the tougher words? Did they not see the softness in your hands?

You wanted too much. Felt too deeply. Traded sleeve cuff for heart. Wore it easily; asked for the bruises. Never learned to call a spade a spade. Never learned to cut the language down. Never knew how to say it plain. Kept giving people sick violets. Kept loving things that died.

Give it up. Your tongue is not a rusted church bell. Let it go. There are no dark cellars in your eyes. You wrote it sloppy. Never hated anything well. Your fire was figment. You spent too long holding your breath; waiting for the right moth to come along. Waiting for someone to call it light. Waiting for someone to be wrong.


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