A Great Big Fuck You
I am not as fragile as a flower, or as shallow as an hour or a shower for that matter.
I am as deep as a week and sometimes a month if I try.
I am strong as lily. They always come up early and get crushed back to the earth by frost and cold, but they come back, stronger and in greater numbers.
They come back year after year.
I’m sick of complaining, and being frustrated, mentally, physically, sexually, emotionally,
all those words end in Ally. But in this sense they sure are not.
They are shitttttttty. Shitty I tell you shitty.
Real allies are there for you, even while you complain or get broken or cold.
Sure I’m breakable, mistakable, not-take-able, unreachable, reachable, able. I am able.
That is what I’ll be for me and for everyone who matters.
But not for you, never for you.
I’ll be able and strong and an ally and deep.
This is my clean sweep,
my emotional spring cleaning,
goodbye and good riddance skeletons in my closet,
give the ghosts of the past the finger if you see them.
Tell them I haved moved on and I am on my merry way.
Give them the finger and tell them to have a nice life.
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