I will purge myself empty of everything but

I will not tell you what you already know

I’ll share with you things you will not believe

With pain and resentment as I struggle to think

of any more secrets in this depleting vault

I will not accept the hand willing to clean me

I will not submit to the truth already known

How pathetic you are is the solace I chalked

why facts of my life might seem so unfathomable

How pathetic you are is what solace chalks up

Yet I find myself spilling that all for your trust

Not for your approval, nor now for your blood

as all that I’m left with is shame for confessing

how pathetic you are was the solace, I’ve lost

It’s a personal choice, where that gavel slams

But with me as the judge, the truth I will keep