This one doesn't come out as well typed as it does on paper. Most of the poem is written normally, but the parts I put in astricks are written all over each other, almost to an unreadable point. I'm not sure who this poem is about. I havn't figured out if I wrote it about myself or someone else, or everyone else. And, as with all my poems, read it exactly as it is, with the exact punctuation and accents and it will work better.
Your words cannot scratch my surface.
Your pity is not needed.
I can see through your lies, which to you are real.
I can see through your eyes, see your wounds that won't heal.
Your contradictory nature keeps you from being natural.
Your grimmace goes unnoticed.
I can see your imperfections, I can see when you steal.
I can see through your lies, which to you are all real.
How fucked up to beleive your own lies!
How fucked up to beleive your own lies!
beleive your own lies beleive your own lies
beleive your own lies beleive your own lies
beleive your own lies bleieve your own lies
beleive your own lies beleive your own lies
beleive your own lies beleive your own lies
beleive your own lies beleive your own lies
beleive your own lies beleive your own lies
lies lies lies lies lies lies lies lies lies lies
Even when you close your eyes.
