the pauper’s cry

on the bathroom,

you're sitting on the toilet with your wet uniform,

all wet and fuzzy and disorganized,

still an inconvenient troublemaker, that's what you are.

and did the whole creeps its giving you,

burning all the way down the south,

as the thought of her still believing that you were the one mistake she'd never forgive herself for,

or that she never had the chance to forgive herself because of the sins she have made?

damned to know that she was a daughter once too,

yet the ocean's tides still moving and the stars going to die anyway,

then let her break in,

and down on the bathroom tiles,

the reconciliation she was about to make,

is staying here,

with that wet uniform and frown, dull face of yours.

october 5th, 2023