we live in the same house but you treat me like one-wall away
you shoot glares as if my eyes were your dartboards
you always want to know my location
are we living in a crossfire battleground at home?
you're always the king of the tea party with your friends
and as you sip tea, there is a bittersweet feeling
you hope to dig something that can ruin me in the morning
the sun rises, but you're better at burning my skin
the day ends and you wish there is an end to my strength
you plot your machiavellian tricks in the dead of the night
you wish you could kill the looming competition
that only you can see and only you can relate to
when all i gave you was understanding
you gave me your sturdiest hatred
you spread the fakest destructive lies about me
and i wrote a cryptic book about you
YOU ARE READING
MACHIAVELLIAN: The Book of Ronan
Poetry*COMPLETED* "You spread the fakest destructive lies about me, and I wrote a cryptic book about you."
