She will sell me out the first chance she gets. I went into this with my eyes open, but why. What do I stand to gain here? She drinks my knowledge, draining my thoughts like coconut milk siphoned through a straw. I wear an umbrella behind my left ear. I am left with nothing of mine at all. Cheap Vietnamese carbon copies that will break when handled too roughly. When we entertain, she opens her mouth and my words come out, she will even use my own voice. I, sit mute, labotomised by her hunger for social acclaim and then she will turn to me and quietly reprimand me for my ineptitude. I must make small talk now but there is nothing I know that is small enough to please this audience. I only deal in larger currencies, at least I used to deal such, for my trade has been removed from my power. I am just the back alley tailor of finely woven words that are sold for the bartered down price of my silken heart.
Copyright 2020 Sonny Clarke
Copyright 2020 Sonny Clarke