you know you aren't perfect,
and you continue on like you are,
wondering why,
nobody seems to like you.
you lie to them,
and pull them in on false strings,
soon though,
you will stand there,
acting perfect,
but honestly threadbare.
you're different from the rest of us,
how does it feel,
to be a lie?
you don't even really exist,
and what will you do,
when you need to find yourself,
and you are left with half lies,
knots left untied,
fraying away in the breeze,
alone,
and desolate...
even your disheartened face
cannot draw in strangers.
we've warned them,
of the dangers,
the power you hold over us,
is no longer valid...
you cannot expect us to stand here,
and have you suck away our lives,
the real world we held so dear.
you have no guts,
you cannot take the truth or consequence..
we're not suggesting we get to
interogate you...
but think of the way you go on burning,
down to teh ground..
the lives of all you *loved*.
they say success
is in the eye of the beholder...
well you threadbare friendless one..
i would have to say,
that it's feeling pretty damn good,
compared to what we see,
when we look over your cold shoulders...
so how does it feel..
to be the one who was fucked over?


xoxo
Kyelle