Just because you say it,
does not make it so.
And every clever come-back,
is slowly alienating you.

You feel your weakness,
your own insecurity.
And make up for it,
with a spiteful tongue.

The more you use,
your tool of choice,
the sharper it gets.
Honed to cut thick skin.

Losing yourself,
to the need to hurt.
To raise yourself,
on a lonely pedastel.

But when there's
no one around to attack,
do you turn the blade
on yourself?

Your soul is empty.
Drained of life-blood.
You are lost, alone,
in your self loathing.

01/30/2004

Author's Note: HeeHee, now I get to be clever too :P

Posted on 01/31/2004
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