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Date Posted: 00:57:50 05/08/01 Tue
Author: saira
Subject: ....


better to laugh at the slip of your face
than to cry over the realisation of your deception.

it's nice when i feel your eyes talking bad.
cos at least i'm in your vernacular.
and those whispers you scream
echo from ear to ear.

excuses pile up,
preparing me for my own inevitable collapse...
but it just makes things more comfortable while i wait.

and you know something's wrong
when you don't realize what's wrong
and your smile's crying.

it's better if it was crying for me rather than at me.

and i encounter those closest to you
and they don't even know half of it.
and all of it.
cos nothing's all we get with you.

but i do glance over my shoulder sometimes,
to see the very best of me dancing on my shadow.
and it doesn't even hurt.

and i'm still laughing,
as you draw out your misery and place it on a wall for everyone to admire.
i guess my absense angered you.

i never had much admiration for the work depicting me in halves.

i don't really care what you think about me.
i hate those looks tho.
cos i'm paranoid, and every finger is aimed right between my eyes.

my blind spot.

ridiculous me.
heading away from you finds me on your far left.
...still, it's far.

and i never listen to that voice of reason
who repeatedly dented me with anti-you messages.
but now that stabbing behind my ribs is a painful reminder
of any doubt i once gathered.

driven forwards
and backwards
till you knew i was lost
over you.

it's time to go in reverse, ahead.

silence means i have nothing left to say.

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