It's funny how they raise you, isn't it?
They tell you to be honest, and you find out they never were
Are you asking me, so I don't end up like you?
You say, no matter what, you'll be proud
But let's not pretend that your mind isn't thinking of green paper
Because mine is not, You see, I do not care so much
For those Ominous things, though perhaps I am being naive
To pretend like those demons will not accept freedom from possession
No. No, I will not let your thoughts consume me
But perhaps they already have, please do not feed me your lies
I was not raised to have a palate for insincerity
And I cannot guarantee I will acquire the taste
So let us not pretend that you always be proud,
Should I announce my preferences, your faces would contort
Like it did that evening, into an expression of extreme distaste
An expression of strangers, like we had never met before
Somehow you ask me of my plans, at dinner, it has come up again
And I have opened my mouth, and I see that I have insulted you
I insulted you and your throne of royalty, I insulted you.
Do not pretend like you are satisfied. Your lies are an awful meal.
Let's not pretend that you are proud of those words,
Let us not pretend you took care to read them,
Those words I have fashioned with my own hands, sometimes strategically,
Onto my only friend - paper -
Let us not pretend you approve of our relationship.
We do not enjoy your meal of lies.
I like to write; point blank. This is a little piece of me that I get to share with the rest of the world, and hey, you know, maybe you'll appreciate it, maybe it'll do nothing for you. But my writing exists, and that's enough for me.
© 2019 Silvia Iorio. All rights reserved.