you think that what you did for me was just
but all you did was just enough
so loathe were you to be labeled Villain
that you eagerly donned The Martyr's disguise
cloaking yourself in clichéd white lies
white smoke screening my eyes
clouded by your tokenism were my attempts to see the real you
from your table this starving beggar blindly reached for food
you think you're sensitive because you like sad stories
you can sing a song so you think that makes you artsy
you tour other countries so you think you're open-minded
you've read lots of books so you think that you're of knowledge
and you think that all you said to me was true
but your truth was momentary
so lacking were you in conviction and direction
that you avoided the inevitable ending
prolonging pain to make your case appealing
holding all cards and doing nothing
blocked by your half-heartedness was my ability to heal
by action you showed your lack of a capacity to feel
and you think you're sensitive because you sigh at movies
you can work with pencils so you think that makes you artsy
you're polite and lack opinion so you think you're real big-hearted
you're good at making laughter so you think you're such a talent
and you think that what we had in fact was true
but we know what you call "true"
so petty after sending me away were you
that you felt safe to show the side of you that was true
avoiding guilt with comments stupid and snide
all you cared for was pride
and you think you're sensitive because you cry twice yearly
you can sing in silky voice so you think that makes you artsy
you think you're such an open-minded, nice-guy sweetheart
you've done good deeds for others so you think you know what love is
blocked by your utter lack of a capacity to feel
but your actions made it easy for me to heal