2 Poker Faces. They'Re Not Mine Poem by Desiree Whitamore

sometimes it feels better to rip up your books
and sometimes its worth it to endure those dirty looks
and sometimes i understand why you think i always cheat
but sometimes isn't always and i cant always think
and i know its because of me again
and i cant stand to breathe the air that you did
and when i walk back and forth in memories
i can feel you. i can feel you near me.
all the time i wish on the fact that you're here
like i've done something wrong and its just as i feared
but i'd hate to call your bluff again, cuz it's getting really old
i can't stand that damn poker face. maybe you should fold
and i can't run just as fast you can
and you can't get better and thats just sinking in.
i thought these sixteen years would've been better by far
but all that ive accomplished is being who you are
and it hurts just to look at your face
cuz i know thats in mine, i know im a waste
and sometimes i'd like to be the one i think i am
but sometimes its harder to become one of them.
now i've overstayed my welcome i know how to take a hint
but this life support you me hooked to is just an understatement
of what i'm really going through, it doesn't matter to you
but i'm getting out. and you're just a part of the truth.