Psych sketch 22.01.2015

by SpittleRattle

I poured myself a large glass of wine
And started talking to myself.
I rehearsed the best lines I’d learned from my self-love manuals –
Like The Joy of Me, The Tao of I –
Stacked on my shelves.
I smiled and looked me in the eye,
Diverting my focus
With sleight of sly
Hocus pocus.
I fell
For the hard sell.
And flattery.
Naturally.
I might appear attractive
In the right light
Or proof.
My moves could be devastating with the right groove.
This, look, I have perfected:
The personality traits I have corrected.
Obliquing the truth.

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