from a couch, blowing wind

standard lines and lies you cast in our direction believing we will miss your conception of someone else who is the you we can’t get too close to in narrow hallways where sausage factory fingers like to play hide-and-go seek

this revelry with mysterious friends is why i keep the magnetic lies you steep far away from ferris wheel faces and more intelligent people, drinking more intelligent tea

you actually believe what comes out of your mouth?

it’s easy to lose track of the conjured cradles you create when everyone covets and covers forging a fate while not pausing to wait and contemplate whether you are the real mother of mentally ill mantras that no one else wants, you form those you wish to heal. sicken them so you can deal another hand of ‘we’re doing our best’ i make sure to keep close to my vest any reality and feelings i ingest, cause i know you will nest them away for a lying game day when you need to contort yourself through another sick situation brought in with manipulation featuring nothing more than a phony puke headed position of ‘hit me’

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