to none of you

the essence of your last words has betrayed what was written
or, rather, I was the one who sneaked in just enough to see you’re
alive, still writing and reviewing and asking to click your links,
still quoting dead men’s wisdoms in an effort to bury your fears of
being told that you’re a crying baby at the church’s door,
of being abandoned by your surrogate mothers
that you collected at the departure gates, campus dormitories,
cramped bedrooms, clogged toilet drains, silent tunnels
I left that day because I wanted to visit you in silence
knowing, now, that you were the joker all along
disguised in a sad, white outfit you loved to wear
remember who had the last words? you
because there are days when words struck me as
irrelevant

now you know I, too, was the joker all along

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