do you really believe
that I will almost
selfishly
stand up against and out
in this odd compulsive session,
like as if a hole
drilling, on me
and I am deranged.
and you believe
finally I will come,
for the tenth time,
and over your pleasantries
will squirming
me smiling
if not too misled by
voice overs.
I'd rather sleep than die.
celine charcoal
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/liar-13/
