You call them friends

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They want you to fall flat on your face so that they can comfort your weeps.
There the kind of people who wish for bad things to happen to you just for kicks.
You call them friends.
They call you traitor.
Fall, fall, fall, fall they slowly chant bellowing in the wind.
You thought you heard something in their whispers. If fazes you passing by your intrest like your slipping grades.
Discracful and subtle.
So you call them friends.
They call you a loser.
Falling? from grace the only thing closest to you are your buddies, main palos.
But what do they think of you?
Is your inferiority capable of defeating their superiority.
Will they fall and bring you down with them?
You call them friends.
When they really are backstabbers.
Their knife scars placed visably on your skin for everyone to see.
Except you.
Their actions hits the blind spot in your vision.
You call them friends.
When they really are liars.
Hidding the truth is the best part for them. Making the lies seem so realistic.
The truth hurts. When it comes from no one.





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