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I Need a Break from the Fakes

A plum high heel sinking into a polished marble floor that has turned to quicksand in a grand sunlit hall

I need a break from the fakes

From people who smile at your face and broadcast what they don't like about you to the rest of the world
From those who are saints with people they need something from but treat the ones that seem useless to them like garbage
From the backstabbers who practice their Oscar speeches in mirrors before coming to work
From relatives who only remember your existence when they need something

I'm sick of their goody two shoes, two face act. They may be kind to the people they are fooling (or they may simply be playing good dog) but to me they are nothing but fake, boneless iguanas.

A green iguana in a goody-two-shoes lace collar slumped over a plum velvet chair beside a two-faced porcelain figurine

Give me honest assholes over dishonest angels any day
At least with assholes, you know where you stand
With fakes, you're constantly walking on quicksand disguised as solid ground

A row of glossy mannequin heads with identical frozen smiles, the last one cracked open and hollow inside

I need a break from pretending their plastic personalities are worth my genuine energy