the fawn

I called to make peace,
my head both 
raised and bowed
in defense and apology

Her words biting 
and wounded,

"I think you're fake,"

She adds,

"You're a fake ass bitch."

I politely disagree.
I attempt repair.
I feel both scorned
and pushed away.

I feel defeat
and self-protection.

Years later, 
I wonder about her words.

I decide that, 
maybe I am.

You see, 
being nice isn’t always the answer.

And I’ve learned that the hard way.

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