it tastes a little ominous,
this cake that you've baked;
the topping perfidious.
i suppose it's meant to be inconspicuous,
but the sour scent in my senses appears to be poisonous.
what was i expecting really,
receiving a cake from someone so treacherous,
someone who've left me helpless with no remorse.
painting black all over my purpose,
drawing a crowd to taunt me, oh how vicious.
ive been the main lead in all your shows,
all so cunning and highly disastrous.
wrecking my image with relentless emphasis;
using my secrets as your clever scripts.
the spotlight feels like a surgical lighthead,
your body hovering close and in hand a knife,
at that moment i'd have preferred if you stabbed my back,
rather than you slicing my skin in a moment of strife.
your sly dissection,
now an ongoing operation
is simply to watch how long i can take,
my chest a soap opera,
my heart a screaming agony
as you laugh in glee at my perfect audition
to star in your destructive productions.
i should have never eaten that cake,
the day you arrived with everything for me to take.
i should have never overlooked that smirk on your face,
those murderous eyes watching me turn into snow white,
only this time i was no longer meant to be awake.
(this was fun to mess around with the words)
