Jot

You wrote things down that were not true,
that were not for you to say,
or me,
or anyone,
because they were not true,

and I had a distaste for the resentment and the infighting you had started,
it was as if none of us knew,
not remembered,
but knew,
where we came from,
and where they came from,
and then before that,
who before us,

they didn't know their brain from a hole in it,

but you were okay,
we wrote these things down