Wrapped in your beguilement like a silk that was fine.
Still cold within something that was unsatisfyingly thin
All your flaws,
So deceitfully concealed.
But mine of which I shared with you, I asked of you to forget with nonchalance
Ravenous for any form of affection,
But just pure passiveness was all I got, when I trace back to my recollections.
Establishment was a sensitive topic that we never dared to mention,
And I would have preferred to have been free,
Yourself, afar and distant,
The pair of us,
Facets to the undefined.
Playing a game where the reward wasn’t something a little under a mil’,
A game of which,
Neither of us could ever win,
But I wouldn’t know what consciousness was, if I were ripped by the hits of a bong,
And I still don’t know what selflessness is, even though I endured it so long
But the anger isn’t subdued when trying to think of cunning phonetics.
Insidious and sly.
That’s what you were,
And that’s what it was.
-Tatiana. 15. London.