Or, do they?
Who’s pushing the pencil, here?
Embezzling me?
Wearing away my identity?
Taking my breath away?
With every fudge,
His fuzzy math nibbles me,
Quibbles over my sanity.
My earnings lose the war of attrition.
The scales have started to sway.
I've lost myself,
Who I thought I was.
A stranger emerges
From the dust.
I’m unsure of whether it's me he wanted,
Or if he'll be happy with her.
But either way
She's all that's left—
After the carnage,
The demise, the theft.
She’s penniless, too.
That's one thing that’s for sure...
-jenn long
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