Not A Competition

It’s strange how everyone abandons the importance and purpose of scale when I say I have suffered more severely.

I trust if they were paralyzed they would wish someone with stubborn lethargy to sense the difference.

If they blacked out from a migrain I trust that they would wish the mildly tense and dehydrated not to demand proof.

If they suffered a heart attack while driving as a result of poison, I’m trust they’d be offended by competion from a drunken curbing

If they had been hunted by their own family, I trust they would wish it not be conflated with a little controversy.

But with me, it would seem, it’s all a wash.

I am not them.
And so to them
I am nothing
But a reference point
A bent reflection
A damaged canvas
Whatever
You
Want
Me
To
Be
Baby