False

Here, take these words of yours.
No, no, with the right.
Grip them, with all your might
Now, plunge them deep into my flesh.

But wait! Let me turn around first.
I’d like you to feel right at home.

Here, let’s have a look at those shifty eyes.
Mirror you for what you are
Sly, furtive, wannabe, pseudo rock star
Then, hit me across my face with your falseness

But wait! Let me turn around first.
I’d like you to feel right at home.

How is it you can wait
years, with those seedlings of hate
now sprouting blooms of black
waiting to sting, blood taste
as soon as I turn my back...