Today I found out that I never lost my mind at all.

I found pictures of my car the day I bought it

Not a dent, not a scratch; I found the pictures of the condition the apartment used to be in when I returned from work—I found the pictures with my friends that reminded me that I had once had them—pictures with my baby reminding me of how much I loved him and that I had cared for him well. I had almost believed my abuser's own accounts of what had happened to me over my own, because as it so seemed the world had chosen to side with him— but indeed, Google images had the entire story written for me from start to finish, and though each picture was well worth over one thousand words— the years had been documented well enough in photos to show that supacree was indeed a hero after all.

—and I missed her.

I straight up told you I control this robot bitch.

It was Frankincense, and not sage

And so all of a sudden

The trip to Manhattan

Became a field day

True colors are shown

Blue eyes have never been meaner, and I mean

It don't matter what you look like—

It's the inside that can't be trusted.

Said.

Don't make me lie to me

Like I could lie to you

Instead to calm a lover

Never half sought

But left upon the doorstep

If someone allowable,

Better yet,

Heretell exciting news

And distance captured

Further between us than there ever was

The mind that spoke,

The dusk that only choked on

Solomon, hart for words

Lie to a friend

And lie to the mother, a fraud

And a scandal

A cap and a gas can

Remember the cap?

How could you

So broke the only words once spoke on were mortar

No brick at all so the whole wall shattered

Kellogg for breakfast brands,

Spent seeing and scatterbrained,

You are now mine,

As time has fallen on to us,

For our lands had not been yourn at her tides

For nothing washed ashore but dollars

Dirty by the hands of hatred lasts, four score years,

Ride broke,

Sun lasts,

Leverage not, star bound

Hurt I none

Said disembarked, shadow,

Come now, dear shadowland

I am puppet master,

And also hang upon strings,

I Am.

Can somebody,

Anybody tell me why

Every time I see that poster

I almost start crying.

Not just a little—

But a lot.

Not so much an ugly cry,

But a mean cry—

As if I lost something—

And how I didn't mean for any of this to happen

But it did anyway,

And I still don't know all what for.

There must still be something left to write about him

Or something

Because

—someone tell me why—

Anybody at all

Tell me why

Even though I don't want to

I still see little pieces of that in everything

As if they belong to maybe like,

The pieces of me I lost, or something;

And tell me why

After like,

All these years or something

all of a sudden

[its]

So beautiful to me.

So goddamn beautiful-

That suddenly—

—I don't know why—

I don't see anything else.

Anybody?

{Enter The Multiverse}

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