You
are the only person
I have ever longed to hit
as hard I could

in the face.


With one quiver of your disgusting
makeup caked
powdered
press-on chin
you spell your entire personality.

Deceitful.
You are a liar.
You are a cheat.
You tell the world just what they want to hear
in just such a way that you get what you want.

Poor, sweet, angelic girl.
That's the part you long to play.
Adored and admired by everyone
mostly yourself.
Pretty girl,
all washed out in that limelight.

Who are your friends?
They're disposed of when they're of no use.
Paperdolls, each one
put to the flame when you're done.

And who do you love?
Oh, we know who you love
but put down the mirror.

Him?
Are you kidding?
He's a toy!
You use him for status
for leverage
and re-li-ability.
He loves you so,
and you love him so-so.
It's clear.

So who do you love?
Oh that's right...


Are you lonely?
Do you hate what you see when the rouge is washed off
every night?
Is your cold heart bottled
like a ship under glass?

You're as fake as both effects,
and I'd miss who you were
if I knew who I'd known
all these years.

06/15/2004

Author's Note: This has no form, and I know that. I just needed to get this out. I hate how I can't stand her anymore, but I refuse to waste my time with a egocentric child and anyone willing to believe her stories. I'm through.

Posted on 06/16/2004
Copyright © 2024 Trisha De Gracia