I sharpen my teeth- stage my part of the world for the show. It’s always a show. It’s about showing how graceful you can crash and burn – I levitate above the wreckage like I fucking own it. I’m sweeter than the perfume you wear to mask the smell of stale cigarettes- told everyone you quit, but we all know you didn’t. You’re so bad at hiding. You can’t ever hide from us. Hidden pieces only make us hungrier for some sort of truth. Bite through it with sharp teeth and expose its fragile interior- show us how ugly it’s looked from the start. We promise to make it pretty. I’m just warning you how closeness may feel too close, but closeness means nothing without these sort of rituals. Show you how to fight when the world dares everyone to suffocate. Show you how to bite back. Show you how peaceful it can feel after the fight if you let it. I think that’s the hardest part. I mean, it’s not really letting go. You’re not giving up. It’s just letting the anger disperse inside a part of you that doesn’t stay whole for very long. Letting go is cracking open your favorite book even though you know the ending. Maybe it isn’t always about how sharp you keep your teeth- if I could learn how to be better at this then I would have let them turn dull long ago. Let the curtain fall for good. Hold a mirror up to anything trying shatter my peace- it’s a calm haze that makes me dwell on everything at once, but it’s mine. Let it soften me for the first time in a long time. Such a long time. I’ve been sad for a long time. -AMT