Your face full of,

fake

emotions.

I don’t

know,

or understand

you.

Distant,

and cold.

You

frigid

son

of

a

bitch.

You hate me.

With fake smiles,

and torn lips.

A bloody smear across

your face.

So

next

time

you tell me.

You hate me.

I’ve got to say

I

feel the same.