hide and seek

the truth is–
in less than valiant attempts to appear a good friend (because you know, i could care less whether i really am, as i am

—a cynic, and know that you are not really my

friend anyway
)

i smile, watching you share stupid (really stupid) jokes/sloppy joe kissessecret looks that piss me off to watch;
you don’t see me clench my fists beneath the table because i’m supposed to be the one whose arms clasp your luscious (babealicious!) body to my ImPerFecT* ignore my ****

(cunt)

, i am laughing along with your jokes that make no sense

(hmmm what did she say)

, i am holding your hand while you cry for him.

, i am smiling as i watch you in his arms

, i am holding your hand while you cry for him, Dr. Phil on Wheels imparting advice “it’ll happen when it’s ready i’m sure yes of course you know that as well as i do be patient” (me, advising patience? what bullshit
)

(ooh, what you say)

and you are oblivious to how i glare at him.
you are blind to how he looks in my direction back off bitch lasers boring into my shoulders so i slump further than usual.

(it’s all for the best, because it is)

— the truth
the truth
the… the truth is

(the dark has only begun to fall)

I DON’T.

(the doctor is in. show me your scars.)

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