Your image becomes clearer as the smoke dissipates.
It’s like you have been standing there for all these years, clenched jaw and all.
Just awaiting my lowly arrival.
You anticipated my failures, and you have come to collect my tears.
Such a trophy for you, is it not?
Even, in all your glorious wisdom; how could you have known I would do this?
My failures fire your revelry.
Dance in my misery, you have won once again.
Rhymes, Writings, and Confessions to Small Crimes 
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