clambering at the back on my throat, readied at the tip of my tongue.
all these sharp judgements and rash resolutions, so infirmly imbedded,
racking my brain for reasons to feel how I have...
commended myself for feeling.
I wear diadem of half baked irreverence,
you are a war that i've read half an article about,
that I am so ready, so willing, so able, to condemn.