Beat

her laughter is loud, almost indecentshe spits joy on a forlorn worldmercilesslythoughtlesslyshe who has never feltmoistness in her eyesor is it what I imagine about her?How can she ever wipe a tear? not that tears define my existencefar from it. I’m stoic and distantcalled inert sometimesfor senseless acts of loyaltyglorification of half-hearted sacrificefails to move … Continue reading Authentic