“Them’s fightin’ words” or so I’ve been told.
The smear of this ink takes brutal honesty to a new and dangerous level. The pressure is too great here for the faint of word.
Day in and day out you mock my voice, but what you can’t see is the reflection of these words in my eyes. Your goggles are fogging up. I’m not your experiment, a specimen on your examination table. Your fake works and illegitimate actions strike me like a coroner’s blade, but I get up and walk away before your fingers can brace my dear cold skin for support. You aren’t strong enough to draw blood and piercing this skin will do you no good. Be careful what you say: it may not be good enough.