Marionettilapsi

i. the next time you read this it will not be under your breath pained and dripping with fresh wounds like the whip just bit no, next time there will be a crowd and you will be reminding them that this is the past and that today, today of all days is the one that matters and when you spit the "fuck you" from your lips there will be no blood mixed with the lipstick no, "fuck you" will stand proud on the stage and the crowd's eyes will not be dry, unlike the way you casually mention my lack of meaning today they will devour it, your smooth tone and brilliant shatter, your clever bones whittled just sharp enough to cut out old habits they wi