macabre_'s profile

I'm stirred from my slumber, there's a knock at the door. Is this your fault? I glare at the phone: nothing's new. I'm on my tip-toes, reaching for the peephole. I'm a mole too short, as I'm becoming used to. Breath in deep, and I listen, play it coy, and I try to follow, don't let him win, and I know I'm fated to disobey myself. Regardless, I open the door, iron breastplates on. Just the mailman. I'm paranoid. I think. I think I've got paranoia of being paranoid. Is there a name for that? I ...

The most meaningful things go unsaid.

Learning to speed amongst Sunday drivers.

Shameless. You put on this illusion That you wear perfection Around your neck. You've perfected The accidentally beautiful look, Hoping no one will notice That you are nothing, Without your false tragedy, Without your terribly sad alibi. Your picket-fence teeth Turn to shards of glass. Your smooth, glowing skin Turns ghastly pale and translucent. The sparkle in your eyes Turns to wrath and hatred. You are not the simplistic, loving person You convinced everyone you are. Without your faucet-bo...

Would I be right in assuming You scoff at modesty? Could I correctly say That your vanity is almost as strong as your cheap colgne? Can it be said That your ignorance is as buyable As the lies you campaign? If you answered no to any of the above I'll have you know: the only person who isn't laughing in your face is yourself.