Set
me on repeat and I would earn that rumor true,
I would do all the things they say I did, with you.
I would earn every burning stare, every smile from men
standing there. If only, if only, I could play the fool,
then I would not feel a tool a pawn in your dysfunction,
the phlegm of your consumption.
How blind I was to what transpired until I saw the looks of mirth by men,
women rimmed with fire, disdain, secret smirks, come again.
Rumor changed the shape of vapor my eyes placed around
you, veiling the flaws, the truth and beyond.
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