Breathless Barrage

Clock starts. Tongue sparks. Red zone. I own. Hating the comments,

I treat it like cardio warmups today. Running through rumors and wrecking your

weak little paragraphs anyway. Every critique that you tweet is a treat that

I turn into fuel. Chewing through cheddar, you flatter me. Funny you think

that you're cruel. Talking in circles, I'm lapping you up and I'm mapping your doubts.

Floating your takes into paper, I plant them and phase them right out.

None of you ready to measure the pressure I level in breaths. Send this machete,

I sever the venom you left of what's left. Calling me out but you copy