Word is Bone

It’s starting again, you’re making enemies of friends.

You say you know before it begins… awful trouble; the web… it spins. 

I’m exhausted, on my tip toes; always dodging your digs and blows.

You say you’re the one who knows, but it’s your emptiness that overflows. 

More uncomfortable each new day; the anger, the bone… in all you say.

You say everyone else makes you this way; as you’re building a wall, 

no time to play.

Your questions are statements, you don’t seek to learn. 

You’re dictating the placement of who and how they burn. 

You claim ownership without purchase… 

you’re sinking my ship, from beneath the surface. 

I’ve had to answer, how is this worth it? It’s like cancer in a static circus.

MelMinda
August 2022