One trick ponies
Mutually lonely
Uprooted trees
Are plastic phonies

Oh god is this it?
Have I really become this ego mess
And everyone close to me can see it
But I can’t and I just continue
Oh god, how often am I thinking not of me as me
But of me as some concept and don’t you dare touch it
And don’t you dare touch it
Ask me and will the response be considered
Or a slithered play with perspective
Until all light and contours of the room are focused on me
I curate this life for us, then ask why it is not enough
I think I know how you see me sometimes
Watching the fake meek wrestle with performed humility
This much time together
We can both say “I see the worst parts of you”
And we so often bring them up with each other