Platitude

I can see you nod your head
with the patient piety you have
cultivated
that makes me want to spit

I can hear you say
"Look at how creative all this pain has made you!"
"Think of what we had, not what we lost!"
and all manner of practiced platitude you employ
so life is good and you have all you need

I can see you nod your head
You think your careful, paranoid epilogue
laden with judgement
should be okay for me too

As if I wouldn't trade every
word to get my faith back?

At all of your patient piety and
practiced paranoid platitude
I hurl the only words that seemed
to get your attention

Fuck you