bullseye

you sit there on a guilded throne of cold and splintered shards, playing shallow games of all about you, mostly because that's all you know.
for show and truly unable to see how you speak out of both sides of your own fine ass, you've sat there long enough, a hypocrite become tattered and torn over time,
worn enough to warm up to the numb of yourself, inside unexamined and unnoticed.

too many long days spent dazed in slumber under the shade of your tyranny gone up in a haze of smoke.
you hit and bruise my body with stinging words and sharp tongued shanks in a last attempt to feel alive again before darkness creeps back into this cold world we live in.

it was almost as if i was never meant to be something loved like this. cold now that was once warm.
a breath of silence stays quiet and dormant nestled in the back of my throat as a stalagmite of pain and suffering slices like an icicle through my heart.
bullseye.