The web of appearance(the inner false friend)

 Look through your things
false friends need cigarettes
There's a party on the civilized edge of town
kids who know jokes are going

pick up a check
study the amount
decide if you are going to cash it
a tunic of a person

I need cigarettes cigarettes
False friends beg for the moment
where betrayal changes the face
like an orgasm like a nice high ascending

pick out the right clothes
concert platforms all over town
each one calling out for attention
we try to impress those other funny kids

yet we forget the game has already started
and they are infront
screaming in taunting tones for us to catch up
just to buy them cigarettes and massage egos

the house is old wood
dry and lifeless
I can't find my clothes here
I can't pick anything out

My friend is already finished
But I am not him
he seems to be perfectly addicted
to these systems of satisfaction

dusk down now a clammy invitation
this false friend a kilometer ahead
in fine robes and deriding well repeated meme expressions
calling back like a child at the sea

A party across the other side of town
He almost felt
but squashed emotion
first by his own will, but then by alcohol and cigarettes

what a wild time
still lost in and out of draws and clothes
in the meaningless details
when we should be on the bus by now

False friends manifest and accumulate
A storm over a mockery of dusk
a mouth into smile
a wound opening

guts of identity
a well crafted insult
that spins so fast
sanding back polite exteriors just to expose the hibernating spider