top of page

deck the small talk


I hold my cards close to my chest

Each facet of who I am

Hidden from you.

To play them would take energy.

A gamble on whether they match

Your suit.

Several trump cards lined up

That might ignite real friendship

Or awe

Or amusement

Or jealousy

Or just make you think I’m a pretentious dick.

I waver

Do I go all in?

Can I be bothered?

Are you worth it?

I judge.

I’m tired.

I keep my hand to myself.

And let you think that I am a blank.

The extra card that’s not even a joker.

You have no idea what you’re missing.

I use this thought to console myself.

As I leave.


bottom of page