Trauma Clean
Bake the world a cake and wear your shimmering crown of perfection.
Gorge on pure bites of unearned kindness to feed your grievous bodily farm.
Your dignity is a sight unseen.
Like a spider in mucous your predicament is set, your progress smothered.
We all know your street of benevolence ends in a potholed cul-de-sac.
Vanish down your own sinkhole.
Tears on a fat cheek bleed a needy trail that screams for holy reverence.
A path carved in righteous marble yields nothing but jeers from the gallery.
Consider yourself considered.
Interactions that pass like a kidney stone from bloody stream to toilet bowl.
All is mimicry, all is disgust, and the smile is ill, the smile is façade.
Your smile needs a trauma clean.
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