I turn the page once more,
but this time I won't believe you.
Again
you want to tell me your word is worth something?
Equivocation.
Betrayal.
This attainment you speak of cannot be gained.
You'll just go back to that hole you call home
and expect our forgiveness.
Not this time: I'm finished.
I've eaten your false words
that were shoved down my throat
for the last time.
This dirty plate is thrown at your face
and you have absolutely
nothing to say.
Is your discontentment
worth all the bullshit?
One would hope so,
but I don't...
And it's not, is it?
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