I have never written a mystery you couldn’t solve
Sep 2, 2018 · 1 min read
I have never written a mystery you couldn’t solve
I can’t create anything you can’t destroy.
I spend time worrying about my stupid broken heart, the way the jagged edges are scratching up my insides like the car you keyed in high school.
And I know this is me sounding like a door flung open, like the blood and gore of a cut that needs stitches, like begging for spare change on the A train.
And I know you are immovable, you are disgusted, you are not paying attention.
