A Bad, Late Start

Sigh, another bootstrapper, why can I still not spot you from a mile away?

I am tired of your victim-blaming.

Also, I am tired of the cycle

it sharpens with age,

so let it go.


Take your finger out of my humanity

I am busy existing.


I was always to blame:

the smile I don’t give

the gratitude I didn’t scream

the enthusiasm I don’t show

the makeup I don’t wear

the tragically deformed hair

the crumbs I don’t hoard

the crumbs that I do

the cheap, satin material my heart is made out of

that I didn’t sew back together

when it was ripped.


I refuse to OWN the cycle

the way society owns me

But you knock yourself out

point your finger in my humanity

in a matter of time

I will slap it away.








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