Poetry · Writing

Blood Filled Library

I guess we know

we didn’t but now we know-

the book was published

and all your lies became truths

ripped open my spines and poured ink

and sold it for fourteen ninety-nine.

I thought I was worth more than that-

a cheap penny

blood filled library

and signing with my wish bone.

Worse part was- I loved the book

shoveled all your lies like a dessert

everyone at that shit up

and in a motherfuckin’ instant

I’m the lie.

The history written in my bible

was being preached

in the quad in front of all the people

my texts-

the next step in the light

silenced in shadow

a cloak over my head

choosing between rewriting

or telling the truth

so it’ll be this chapter

somewhere in the middle:

hello, my name is Sam

and this is my truth

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