Choke On My Words

Oh, imagine the effort of being so remarkably small,

🖕

While promising the moon, the stars, and your all.

🖕

The mask was a masterpiece, truly a work of high art,

🖕

Until your "Gift from God" actually asked for a heart.

🖕

"I’m trying!" he wails, as he sprints for the door,

🖕

To "find himself"... as if I’d want any more.

🖕

A monster on birthdays, a psychotic beast,

🖕

But hey, he’s not abusive... he says so, at least.

🖕

He’s allergic to history, calls the past a foul sin,

🖕

Unless it’s your past he can use to move in.

🖕

It’s wrong when you mention the things that he’s done,

🖕

But it’s context when he wants to spoil the fun.

🖕

He sneers at your brain and he mocks every line,

🖕

"You’re too smart for your own good," as if it’s a crime.

🖕

He hates that you’re writing, he calls it a flaw,

🖕

Because mirrors made of ink are the ones people saw.

🖕

He’s terrified you’re cheating (when you don't leave at all),

🖕

Which is funny, given how much he’s projecting on the wall.

🖕

He hates that you see him, he hates that you’re right,

🖕

So he insults your mind to put out your light.

🖕

I’d try to imagine being that much of a tool,

🖕

But I don’t have the ego... or the time... to be that big of a fool.

🖕

You loathe every sentence? You hate keeping score?

🖕

Fuck you, here’s all the words that you hate me for.