a letter to my stalker: what my LinkedIn won’t tell you
is how I spent my morning packing meals
for children in Eswatini
how I was grateful to serve at the site
I learned compassion
how my soul itches in the convictions
that taught shame
how I can’t breathe in this cradle of a city
so
what my LinkedIn won’t tell you
is how desperately I’m scraping and clawing
to Kentucky as home,
gone tooth and nail for somewhere unsung
and, for me, unsingable
since everything is traceable unless I trip
the trap
so be it.
if that insidious blue bastard tells you
I’m interested,
know it was the block button I was after.
I’m gunning for
a new ceiling and, goddamn it
you don’t get a window.
I finally believe I deserve a life
without you in it.
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I love how authentically visceral this reads. ‘…goddamn it you don’t get a window.’ goes soooo hard, it’s magnificent! Very well done, indeed.