Small

They saw the darkness
I didn't, I couldn't.
Unclean
Dangerous
I deserved it

Questions became judgmentcalls
Pixels spread like plague
Visions stood for nothing
Victories were forgotten

They saw the stare falling
They caught it and pinched the flame
No allies came forward
Scandal grew with pleasure

Guilty conscience
Straight face
Too many phone calls
Perfection a vice

Wrong side of the brush
Wrong side of the binoculars
Wrong side of the brain loss
not mine

their loss
my perfection

small park
smaill job
smaill people

I did not cry over the phone

with a soul
I am bigger