Your stabs hit me exactly where
you hope they would
with such ferocity that gouges
out all vanity and conceit.
A knife thrust through the
illusions of my bloated ego,
An ugly distortion of an inner
image through a plastic glass
which finally crumpled with me
looking at the looking-glass self.
Can I tell your dog a
"Can I tell your dog a secret?"
"I didn't know you were a dog
whisperer" I answered quizzically.
A barrage of thoughts racing
through my mind like it is a finish line.
How come we know nothing about
the people we think we know the most?
Time to take a cigarette and
put it in my mouth and let it burn my lungs...