I see you there. yes you.
You're plastic. fake perfection. hollow emotions.
I can hear you talking about the latest trends-
how Bobby-Joe never asked you to the prom.

You giggle with your friends,
as you curl flawless glossed lips at each potential mate.
You're spitting venom in my direction,
with your close minded concepts.

This repetitive duplication is nauseating.
with no intention of ever being the least bit original.
I wonder, do ‘you’ ever strive to be something more than a sheep?
Or do you find comfort in numbers.

It is only basic animal instinct
to try and blend into the herd.
so not to wind up a predators nourishment.
Yet, this isn't Africa- no lions conceal themselves within food courts.

So truly, in re-cursive de-finition. who is the freak now?

Please, don't think those half mumbled whispers deceive my ears.
I can interpret facial expressions,
and I'm not totally oblivious
to your constant peering in my direction.

Surely you wish I were.
I've heard it a thou-sand times before.
{Your kind} always asking childish questions.
A few with vague insults. the occasional bold statement.

Don't hold your breath-
under the belief that I don't understand your intentions.
When pressing your finger to your own face,
tracing where ‘my’ piercings are buried. you ask
"Did that, like... hurt?!?!"

You feel so victorious.
within your immature crowd of teeny-boppers.
to mock my lifestyle with your mindless inquiry.
Simple curiosity? I think it not.

Go about your life with your false assumptions-
never face the reality of what you are.
Proclaim the oddity as me.
state that I am moderately insane.

However darling, remember I'm not the one hiding from lions in the mall.

(Thank you Mylissa)

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