Deja Vu
Quiet honestly, I believe that everything is a phase.
Like my love for punk boy bands and heavy black eyes, brown nail polish, boy toys and bracelets.
Even crying myself to sleep.
Sloppy doodled hearts on hips.
Singing in front of my mirror with confidence.
Crying before the crowds.
Listening and singing my first ex-boyfriend's
favorite song.
Strangely I feel at home singing the chorus on repeat, replay.
Your love is a lie. Your love is a lie.
Your love, love, love is a lie!
I'm so cliché. So cliché.
But this isn't another one of my 'whirlwinds' of emotion.
For one thing, I'm calm.
I want to rile them up again, be the cause; be the bully.
Make them the scared effect.
Screaming your name into the phone is my favorite thing to do.
It makes you an angry human.
But human behavior's so easy.
Give me a challenge.
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