My life, your entertainment
Or so is thought
Everything I do is part of a carefully
calculated hoax
Artificially placed props provide the
scenery for the plot
Inside, a scream is muted
Inside, I die
With every analytical blink of your
eye, I die
If these walls could talk
They'd tell tall tales of unspoken
truths
Long-sleeved lies about the happenings
in private lives would come to light
Self-imposed sins would surface
Myths started to protect the guilty
would be debunked behind loose lips
Scandal and surprise would shock
If only these walls could talk
What comprises of the good life? This
entertainment of yours?
Lavish lies of the so-called rich and
infamous
Foolish educations paid for by Uncle
Sam
Who wants his payback in the confines
of a dark bedroom
Or behind his wife's back
Modest lifestyles funded by taxpayer
money
All for the sake of entertainment
purposes
Children, do not try this at home
Hidden are the behind-the-scene footage
Heroin tracks covered by ink sleeves
Sunglasses and spa trips to front the
stress and drug binges
Addiction
Mental battle scars of defeat covered
by Mac and Botox syringes
At age twentysomething
What do you want me to say?
I am a fool for you
The lies build, bubble and erupt under
drinks and drugs like dormant volcanoes
Vodka, Gin, Tequila, Rum
My four musketeers
Knights in shiny shot glasses and
flasks
Sobriety is weakness
I don't want to be sober or saved
Reality is blasphemy
Delusion is my religion of choice
Walking with tunnel vision straight
into the pits of hell
No one even notices
But if these walls could could talk...
♥P.
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