By S&M

My own lies can't even disguise
the deceit in your lullabies.
The treacheries of cold warmth
and mistaken promises.
It's not you, it's me
but really, it's you.

Do they hurt?
Your self-destructive words.
The tricks and games,
do they bring you fame,
confirm your superiority
and your uniqueness and
your damned supremacy?

And now you're satisfied?
You're finished now,
you're content?

No, dandelion.

You are your own melancholic mockery.

But I digress,
it's only because of your own loneliness.