I Came Here To Be Difficult

I came here to be difficult. Not useful. Not clear. Not the good kind of honest. The kind that ruins the room. You wanted peace. You meant quiet. You wanted truth with rounded teeth. You wanted edges filed down clean. A better face for the same machine. I brought the corner. I brought the chair turned wrong. I brought the word that made the table feel too long. I came here to be difficult. Not brave. Not wise. Just the part that would not smooth down. I came here to be difficult. Not right. Not clean. Just wrong enough to scratch the paint. I did not bring a better plan. I did not bring a cleaner hand. I did not come with light behind me. No halo. No cure. No speech to tidy up the floor. I just heard the soft lie working and put my boot where the carpet would not hide it. You called it calm. I called it sealed. You called it fair. I checked the teeth. You called it done. I touched the seam. Something moved under the neat part. I came here to be difficult. Not brave. Not wise. Just the part that would not smooth down. I came here to be difficult. Not right. Not clean. Just wrong enough to scratch the paint. Maybe I liked the sound it made. Maybe I smiled when the room went stiff. Maybe that says something bad about me. Good. Leave it there. Not every ugly thing is wrong. Not every quiet thing deserves to stay. Too smooth. Too clean. Too nice. Too dead. Too calm. Too sealed. Too late to behave. I came here to be difficult. Not useful. Not clear. Not the good kind of honest. The kind that ruins the room. I came here to be difficult. Not brave. Not wise. Just the part that would not smooth down. You wanted peace. You meant quiet. I heard you the first time.