I am learning about rejection. We haven’t been acquainted for a while but i can taste her in the bitter aftertaste she leaves in my tongue. I can smell her in the acrid air in the gutters. I am blinded by her in the glaring streetlights just when you wake up from a nap in your car.
I don’t really know her well, but i am slowly learning her contours. She is not well-molded. She is just lumped up together like an afterthought. She is ugly, i can give you that. She is not perfect. But when she rubs on you, she takes away a part of you with a cruel smile. She leaves her pungent perfume on you for evidence. She puts a scowl on your face and makes your spirits take a nose-dive.
She is the desperate cry of a baby when it’s sick and can’t express herself…
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