* a rather long winded writing, it tends to drag on but this is how it came out, mixed feelings toward a clear surface and the face i see staring back *
She's tripping up on the fabricated past she had woven,
Maybe she is busy; no time to say or tell me why - her need to lie
Rehearse before i see her for today,
Of what could be wrong or how she feels,
But just wait ; till i have my turn
Then take my troubles and make them your own
Belittle my pains - to elaborate yours,
The smell of filth lingers in my doorway,
Obvious of my sins - i hang my head in shame,
Yet to my disgusted surprise,
My affliction you play out - to make it your own,
To be the best at something else,
I cannot overthrow you -
But as you tally up your sympathy scores,
A girl behind a door of suffering,
Waits for recognition, for assistance,
For no more games as to who is worse,
No more play pretends and who hurts most,
One day without an urge to sin - is my bliss,
To have no one comment on your frown - must kill you,
Though you do these things to me,
I still wait for you to return - i still love you,
Though you may not love me to,
For all the pain this is causing me - do you even know ?
On the verge of end - and you stand watching,
Wondering what you can take from this,
To add to your own little show,
Woe's me i hate my life - take my friend's knife,
And stab her in the back - continuously,
But that doesn't matter - cause she'll keep on coming,
Trying to help but you'll suck out more,
To finish your tapestry of sympathy,
The suffering was never your own,
they know my dear - your not true,
Not a real thing - just a fake,
Play pretend - a nobody to illness,
Diagnosis - laziness,
But i still love you - though you may not love me to,
A putrid princess - sometimes i wish to be,
More often than not - i want to be free,
Though you just stand there and stare,
As my sins wash the sink dry,
i cannot control how my day unfolds,
Whether overcome or left unbroken,
That a sadness could replace a yearning to -purge -
Do you know of this of which i speak ?
Of true loneliness within an illness - i think not -
Shall i sit and wait again - sit and debate again,
As to whether or not you do still love me,
That i am not just a model for your own scheme,
You to be my molded interpretation
i ask you now my dear - what
Will you ever gain - when i lay in white room,
What can you possibly earn through copying,
And in turn steal my possible Saviour's for your own,
Though behind that tainted mask you smile,
For all the worry is on you - well done,
While one girl lives a life of knowing she will die soon,
And that all the help she ever needed - is taken,
You will stand in your parade of fools,
That fall for your lies, your crocodile tears,
May be when i fail to stand one day,
Fall to the ground in a permanent haze,
You will finally see - i play no games,
This isn't - for fun - i suffer because i can't manage,
You manage to get by - by having fun - pretending,
Perhaps one day in your silly masquerade,
You'll finally trip on the tales you've told,
And be left much alone - quite like the sick one,
No one wants to know - they'll find someone else to cater,
But I'll still love you - though its obvious you never did me.
