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Tuesday, September 3, 2013

i have eight eyes but still can't see

I hate your fake smile,
your big house
and your perfect kids.
Your play dates,
and nut-free cupcakes.

Your expensive SUV
with the faded Romney sticker
and your incessant chatter
about how perfect your life is--
I want to vomit.

If only I could be a spider
living in some corner of your ceiling,
To wait and watch and spin my web.
I want to catch your secrets
I want to catch your mistakes
and wrap them up,
sucking out the negativity
leaving nothing but a shell of your humanity
--a small tiny speck forever trapped
in my sticky labyrinth.

You think you are so perfect
but look how big I am
filled with your lies.
I hate you.






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