He is the inconvenient truth,
And always goes unnoticed.
I guess it's for the better,
I would hate to be ****** into,
His heart he hides,
Under the vacant smiles.

He is the boy who tells white lies,
And balms his good intentions.
I want him to tell me so,
I hate the fact he doesn't.
His mouth just seeps sugar,
What he thinks I want to hear.

He is a constant misconception,
And prides himself on his demeanour.
They think of him as nice, or kind,
I hate the fact I see the latter.
His delusions of how things should be,
Will never cloud my judgement.

For what I hate the most about him,
Is that I know who he really is,
And it's sad,
he wouldn't recognise reflection.

I am one day older. July 17
My mother has another year
To her name. The sun has risen,
But time is setting – I am
Getting further away from the
Closest thing I had to bliss.

There is something beautiful
And desirable about ignorance,
Something I possessed only as an
Infant, yet I would ****
To hold it once more. **** –
That proves it. Just how far
Am I from those illusive years?

When I was little, nature's
Corpses would be buried with care,
And we would whisper words
To the Earth about who we had lost.
Now, pests are killed by my will,
And handled with disgust.

Yet, I envy them. Their lives,
So easy to dispose of, and mine,
Neverending. But I am the same
As a common moth.
Crush me.

Smoke inhabits my throat. My friends,
Intoxicated, are complimentary –
They say they wish their aesthetic was mine.
My lips, painted baby blue,
Hold loosely onto the Marlboro cigarettes.
I think of a boy, who I don't truly
Know, and I wish he'd attended tonight,
Although he was not invited.

I think in depth of social circles,
And of how circles are impenetrable –
They go continuously round with no edges
To break. I begin to realise that
That is the reason you aren't mine,
And never will be. However, can't
Circles overlap? Why should we not be
The arcs that meet? You are not here,
And I wish you were. What would you
Think about me taking a draw,
****, more than one? I said to you
Once that I would not become another
Teenager, another statistic, who inhales.

I guess I lied.

I think of all this –
As they take ***** shots,
And I distract myself from you
For a moment, by asking why
They'd drink it straight.

"This is nice?"
You stated nervously, as if it where a question you shouldn't be asking.

I nodded.
- Cringing at your lack of confidence

"Yeah it is, Thankyou."
- for teaching me how to be fake.

"I'm glad your having a nice time"
You said, fiddling with the zip on your jacket pocket.

I could not reply, I just smiled numbly.

You smiled too.
- numbly.

This was when I realised I was talking to myself.

Taking to someone who's thoughts, where so similar to my own.

Talking to someone who was always asking.

I had caught a glimpse of what it was like to be around me, and hated it.

- I hated me.

I hated my unsteady heart beat, my constant need for reassurance.

I hated that I craved acceptance and would do anything to receive it.

I hated that I was so scared of disappointing him, like you where scared of disappointing me.

- I hated the fact I was fragile

Your fingers slowly brushed against my palm, I guess you where asking if we could hold hands, but I moved away.

You where so shy and so sweet and so good, I knew that, but I also knew me.

*- I couldn't hold into something that I knew was going to break.