*this was written right after my best friend and I got in a huge fight and she said a bunch of crap about me for, like, a week straight.*
Child, child, why do you glare?
Why do you sit up there and stare?
Is it because you trusted her
with secrets that you hide;
but when you least expected it
she cut you deep inside?
Remember, little child,
how you called her your friend?
Yet almost every time you looked
she'd stab you once again.
It pains you to remember
all the lies that she did tell.
She wanted you to scream and cry,
she wanted you to yell.
So now you sit upon that wall,
with fire in your eyes,
as you remember painfully
every single,
little,
lie.
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