Pathological Liar

Oh what a hypocrite you are,

All of you whispering ghosts.

You speak of the cool breezes of heaven,

While I, in hell, still roast.

You tell me self-apathy is a sin,

And that I really should repent.

No person should ever hate themselves,

Nor should hatred be ever self-spent.

You taught me what you thought of beauty,

And how it is defined.

Only look at me and pause,

Muttering something about beholders’eyes.

You showed me girls with tiny waists,

And pretty pictures upon the shelf,

Only to pause with a wondering eye,

Asking me why I starved myself.

You taught me acceptance equaled love,

But also that no one would take me.

So why is it now that you throw up your hands,

Asking why I feel better when I bleed?

You tell me you’ll always be here to listen,

And you swear you’ll understand.

You give me the pity of big brown eyes,

All wrapped in the face of a friend.

You’ll ask politely if I feel okay,

But we both know you’re scared of the truth.

And so I’ll lie, as I always have,

As unfaithful a mistress as youth.