Out

I hate that tone,
elastic
expression,
lands where I lack.

When did I become the target?
Exasperating itch?

I hate that tone,
hissing
threat
lands where I'm wet.

I am not who you think I am.
I have been mistook.

You see me as
one afraid to speak,
but I know your voice,
and I know you're weak,

think you can outsmart me,
blurring imagery.

So, go ahead and spin.
So, go ahead and try.
So, go ahead and turn.
So, go ahead and lie.

Your have the numbers
but I have the sum.

So, go ahead, keep talking.
I'll nod my head and smile.
So, go ahead, keep dancing.
I'll waltz with you awhile.
So, go ahead, bow out.
So, go ahead, and pout.
Scream and pout
it out.