there’s an old cheeto bag in my car.

by epi

today, i’m not telling any truths. today i’m not talking. today i’ve been that girl not making eye contact with the clerk at the tobacco store. today i’ve kept my earbuds in, turned my music up so loud that everyone could hear it. i wanted to let them know, i couldn’t hear them. and i never looked away from my screen. they never had a chance to grab my attention. and i told them i didn’t like to be touched, it’s a lie, but it’s served me well. yesterday, i told a friend my “give a damn” was busted. i felt guilty, but it was true so i couldn’t make myself take it back. and then i realize that you can’t take thing back anyway. (i always thought you could. now, knowing that you can’t take anything back, i’m reluctant to speak as quickly as i’ve been known to do. i think before i talk, because, speaking something, it gives it life, and why would i want to birth lies? that was never my intent. to create lies, to watch them grow and flourish, to prosper. and then i thought, maybe some truths should be hidden too. maybe some truths, when given free reign can take over control too. maybe i should hide some truths. i gave it thought, and well, found it true. some things/thoughts/feelings shouldn’t be spoken.)