I tried to step around it all
And over sympathetic words
But they didn’t come easily.

Sometimes the cold truth is the only way to speak,
And it stings like daggers in the back.

You’re a clown,
And not in a good way,
Less old court jester more monotonous hack comic.

You’re a failure,
Not because of the places u have been or
The job you’ve chosen,
But because you’re empty and
Even your dreams were false.

You’re an idiot,
Because those people around you now would
Be in you then outside your life at the drop of
A hat or condom wrapper
You should have made them use.

And mostly,
You’re a fraud,
Peddling some woe is me bullshit
With a house constantly breaking down from
All the thrown stones that made their way home
And my empathy no longer reaches that far.

There’s no solace in those broken arms which
Is perfect for the nights spent in foreign beds
that span much further than your
Slim track record,
But not as far as the lies.