Toxic reality spat into my head.
Such a smart ass you are.
I would fight you.
But you’re so tiny and weak compared to me.
You couldn’t stand a chance.
I don’t fight others who aren’t my size.
I don’t like hurting others.
But you do.
Sticks and stones may break my bones.
But your words are razor blades injecting poison into me to sustain my pain.
Yet I hold that smile, high and proud.
You don’t just get to tear me down.
My non-existent presence will haunt you.
So you can hold your Medusa’s tongue
And watch me be happier and with less snakes slithering around.