weaving that golden thread…

The drain from you,
The words, the lies the create,
The truths they mask in them,
And it pours out of you,
Because you lack control and need to be heard,
Need to have strangers and lack of concern all about you,
Spinning your golden thread to weave a story only you can control.
But that’s not how life works Rumple,
Each tale has two sides,
And the more lies you create and weave,
The bigger they get the harder you’ll fall darling,
So I watch you spin and spin,
Create the narrative you wish the world would see,
Let your lies create something of a false masterpiece,
And I’ll laugh when your hard work combusts,
Taking you and everything you spun down in ashes,
They say liquid gold is worth so much,
And knowing you you’ll chase down any chase to be heard,
To claim your self victimization and self deluded innocence.
Darling,
I cant to see what will crawl out from that.

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