Court of Intrigue
Being good with words
is a talent I long for,
but your eloquence
is the scariest thing about you.
Your words and ideas
make sense when we’re talking,
but then we step away
and I see how you expertly dodged
everything important.
I’m sick of you speaking to me in code
and berating me for not picking up on your ambiguous clues.
Communication is useless
when you refuse to make your point clear.
Stop talking to me
if you can’t prevent yourself from
treating me like I’ve been magicked off
to a kingdom’s high court with politicking I don’t understand.
Stop talking to me
if you refuse to use your gift with words
for the benefit of truth and transparency.
I refuse to stay trapped in your words,
even if that means
we cease to exchange them.
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