Charade

 
Just a beautiful charade,
The sum of what life was,
A story presented on the stage, faned smiles, poised wave...
wave of the hand, tip of the hat, love of a man that never loved me back.
Drink to the night, talk to the moon, dance with my tears, pretend not to feel.
Mimic the maniacans with painted smiles, pretend love lives in a forced laugh, a quiet, lonely hollow.
Sing the songs when you have forgotten the words, don't allow your tears to race flushed cheeks, listen half heartedly when he speaks.
Love in moments, and drink them to death, give yourself everything you have.
Once was a man with burning lips laced with cyanide, a taste thats sweetness tricked the flame in her soul and fed poison to her heart.
A heart doesn't end immediately, but deteriorates slowly, and hers was a painful decent.
Where ever he went when he left her, he did so with fangs of resentment bleeding what had nothing to bleed.
A hole lies in a place where once was I....
And I am a nothingness...
I am...