unscheduled
no punctuation armour today
dressed in emotional restraint,
I’ve made myself a waiting room—
heavy with patience,
endurance arranged just so.
both indubitably decorative
in pathologised intensity.
they complete the room.
a fingernail fails to chisel
tension from my jaw.
memorise it well,
so you can forget it accurately.
verbosity fails first.
truth follows,
polished into something acceptable.
it will hurt.
you know exactly
where the bone never aligned,
where the unarticulated spit lands.
that’s the damage:
honesty spelled wrong.
exposure misfiled as authenticity.
deficiencies matched.
a perfect, self-authored design,
filed under borrowed eloquence—
terrors dressed in clinical cynicism.
I never look at the mirror
I’m about to break.
pearls scatter the floor.
don’t pick them.
ordinariness
is not survivable.
[image.credit: Noell S. Oszvald]
“Honesty spelled wrong” and “exposure misfiled as authenticity” really stopped me. The way restraint itself becomes the setting here feels painfully exact.
Words and graphic perfect beautiful QUEEN 🪭🪭🎀