Happily ever after. You can't tell me you don't see it, feel the pressure threatening to explode your internal pulsate. (Hear the snapshot) flash exposing all your not-so-little white lies. But I'd rather dip my brush, And paint them blue (for tears they cause) 'Cause that's what the world would've said (and done.) That's your obvious innuendo: To be caught red handed. Can't get out of the color-craze, (swing, baby, swing to the disco ball in the sky.) Only then can you escape yourself. Holding on and Held down. By your very own hands. Some things can't be fixed, but we'll have given up at that point. And we'll title this tomorrow; identified by the eyes that see through The mirror you couldn't suppress, The distorted reflection you feel (is me,) a pseudo-knight in shining armor. Chivalry isn't your obvious forte, No please, pretty please. I must confess you beg, and it's not too.. charming. Two cubes of sugar, if you may, with spellbound deception (to taste.) Another chapter you skimmed through, but then again, a watched pot never boils. But I wouldn’t put it past you to break the concrete. At least it isn't coal under the tree --- (This year.) Only because the gaseous sphere shone too bright. Unconcealed, you crumble. (It is obligatory,) no one laughs at your antics, Anymore. Blame it on being intoxicated. Bring you back to the dancing days, so you can block out (my sadistic tone.) Just up the shutters and force the fairy tale, (that is not life,) To begin. Another ridiculous damsel in distress. Protect you, From yourself. Sometimes I'm petrified, (and to be redundant) horrified, that you'll reach The last page --- The End. And what you expected will come. Just a little morbid, but there's no graves to dig up, (not this time.) You can't blame me for the fact, you haven't learned, To love yourself yet. Starve me and call me fat, then Whip open blinds and let the light blind us. (Can you handle that?) But I am your partner, in crime. Or am I a double-agent? Are your eyes burning, or is it a trick of my imagination? The static we hear is only synthetic. Grin in spite of ourselves. We believe the, not-so-little white lies, (When we say it enough.) Then we'll both drop dead, Once upon a time.
What always amuses me about catching people red-handed in a lie is that there are really only two possible responses(which are, however, subject to variation in detail): 1.) Simply acquiese to being caught and accept the consequences. 2.) Act belligerantly outraged to the point where communication of any kind is intolerable and impossible. 2 is far more amusing than 1. In retrospect.
this is good stuff, i dig the parentheticals, adds a very interesting rhythm change to it, like breaking the fourth wall and muttering under your breath. Paint your world in words
