I see right through you.
Your actions and intentions like clear glass,
Prettily etched by the acid lies dripping from your mouth.
I see right through to your soul.
You do not see clearly.
The husks of past relationships
Strewn behind you as you stumble through life, blind to recognize.
You do not see life clearly.
I have lived a million lives before you.
I am a font from which others sip my experience.
But you would rather splash and stomp than taste my clear water.
Now, for you, my font runs muddy and opaque.
Leaving bitterness behind.
September 16, 2009