I wear shot gun shells around my waist,
Readying for a war I know won't end.
Preparing myself for a bitter trend.
Red lipstick turns to blood.
I no longer wish to impress.
All I have left is what I suppress.
Symbiotic relationships aren't real.
We all try to improve ourselves,
Leaving others behind on shelves.
Nonchalance permeates humanity.
We are all self-sufficient leeches.
Profiting though elaborate speeches.
Stay close to your friends,
Always love more.
Pretend it's not about keeping score.
Nod your head in understanding.
This was expected.
Too used to being rejected.