Funny how settle rhymes with metal
dust goes with rust,
who can you trust,
growing up in the state of mind that
everything you do right is always wrong.
Predicting the next outcome before you trip
The same conversations always stab my ears,
yet the carry on like you’re listening still.
Looking from all perspectives
While everyone else tries to play detective.
I’ll wipe their words that they spill,
Mop it up like it was never here.
I hope I made myself clear,
your words better fly out of here.
I eats at you like a virus still.
Melissa Stein 
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