by Kimberly A. Zanini

Shattered bottles, broken shelves,

and the truth lies naked on the linoleum floor,

bleeding crimson drops of despair.

But it's ok

there'll be better friends

but there won't

And it's ok

that you changed from angel to

blistering backstabbing Beelzebub

The one black sheep in this flock of followers

has gone and dyed her wool white,

but I see the gray, I know the truth,

and this life fits you just as well as OJ's glove.

Spare me the reasons,

and quit lying in the mud.

Quit the Pinocchio routine and leave me alone.