sweet like the taste of an enemy's defeat

look at me, 
playing the perfect little girl

flared skirt 
flares fired

i twirl and paste a sweet smile on
playing the role it seems i was born to play

my mother with her political friends,
wine swirls like rivers down their 
greedy throats like it is lifeblood

all i can hear from their gullets
are underlying passive-aggressive messages
this is a high-stakes game of 
who can insult the other
without the victim realizing

it seems that i am 
the most popular target
of my mother's condescending tones. 

The End

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