Trauma Clean

Bake the world a cake and wear your shimmering crown of perfection. Gorge on pure bites of unearned kindness to feed your grievous bodily farm. Your dignity is a sight unseen. Like a spider in mucous your predicament is set, your progress smothered. We all know your street of benevolence ends in a potholed cul-de-sac. Vanish down your own sinkhole. Tears on a fat cheek bleed a needy trail that screams for holy reverence. A path carved in righteous marble yields nothing but jeers from the gallery. Consider yourself considered. Interactions that pass like a kidney stone from bloody stream to toilet bowl. All is mimicry, all is disgust, and the smile is ill, the smile is façade. Your smile needs a trauma clean.