Don't say I'm lonely when the rhythm of
   syllables called patterns of every shade,
   angle, symbol and
    note.
 You made up decades of false idols, fake
   nose jobs, forged opinions;
   fraudulent
   self-love, just as every girl you
    denounced before.
 And here you are screaming comfort of complacency, of
    "confidence", of
    cockiness, with green and
    wiry tongues, somehow telling me
    I am the one that has done
   any wrong. Yet here I am
    finding life,
    finding freedom
      finding
             love.
Don't say I'm lonely when the
    pitches of passion guided me
    further than your
    lonely
    fake
    heart
        ever
          did. 

Published by Charlotte Griffiths