She looks into your eyes.
Her stare is cold and empty.
She tells you how your life is,
How your life has been,
How your life will be.
Nothing is sugarcoated;
If anything, it’s made more splintering
Ice freezes your blood,
And another voice–
One you trusted and liked,
You will them both to stop describing you
In their blunt,
But you can’t escape the feeling,
You’ve let these people down
They dislike you
Because of what you could have been,
And what you’ve refused to become.