Puppet Love
Here I am!
And there you stand,
You look at me, on my pedestal,
You examine and you nit-pick me,
You tilt your head, left and right,
Your head rested upon your hand,
A smile breaks upon your lips,
Have I made you happy, yet?
I’ve changed myself,
And for what?
My carefree, boundless charisma is now
shadowed by this shallow,
Conceited,
Horrible facade,
How could you?
I was perfect the way I was,
But I can see now,
That you always analyzed me,
I walk a fine line,
I breath a certain way,
I smile sweetly,
My moves are calculated,
Designed to be the way you want me,
How could I ever let you do this to me?
Is it love?
No, this cannot be love,
You wouldn’t have wanted to change me if this was
love,
You draw my puppet strings,
And I go left, then right,
I sway the way you want me,
Move the way you see me,
Do you love me yet?
Do you love this empty shell?
My ways are now yours,
Can you see your reflection?
I hate what I see.
I’m tired, and cold,
Me as I know it is gone now,
What is left, is what you created,
My inner conscious keeps asking me,
Why? Why? Why!
You pick up my strings again,
And you start to sway me,
But enough is enough,
I cut my strings and start to plummet,
But I land on my feet,
I smile, and start to pull off the fake
facade,
Our love was a lie,
I’m going to be me, now.
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