Say It With Your FACE! (Dedicated to my Trolls!)

You hide in a panel, throw a fit, throw

a face. Talk slick in a circle, go mute

face to face. Big bark in the pack, but

alone you just shake. Built tough in the

chat, but in daylight you break.

You don't want the truth, you want

clips, you want spin. Want to target the

paint while you rob from within. Whole

brand built on hate. Whole vibe built on

spite. You need somebody else just to

sleep through the night. You call it

exposure, I call it a need. You feed off

attention like a sickness that feeds.

Not deep, not fear, not rare, not smart,

just a loud little echo with a cracked

up heart. Say it with your face. Say it

with your chest. Say it with no crowd

there patting out the rest. No pack, no

shield, no back up in the back. Just

you, your mouth, and the nerve that you

lack. You talk like a giant, but you

move like a mouse. Big bad on the

stream. Real small in the house. All

that smoke, all that noise, all that

fake disgrace. If you mean to stand

still and say it with your face.

Handle full of prophets with a pit in

their grin. Preach peace for a minute,

then go wallow in sin. Play saint when

it's easy. Play shock when it flips.

Throw mud with a smile, then hide behind

scripts. You laugh when it's others. Get

brave when it's safe and cry for some

context when it lands in your space. You

love public shame when it's far from

your door. But when that wheel turns,

you want mercy and more. Fake rules,

fake codes, fake poise, fake class. Hold

more high ground. Built on brittle ass

glass. You wear cheap ethics like a

coat. Two sizes small. Looks fine. From

a distance up close, it's a fraud. Say

it with your face. Say it with your

chest. Say it with no crowd. They're

patting out the rest. No pack, no

shield, no back up in the back. Just

you, your mouth, and the nerve that you

lack. You talk like a giant, but you

move like a mouse. Big bad on the

stream, real small in the house. All

that smoke, all that noise, all that

fake disgrace. If you mean to stand

still and say it with your face. What

would we see if we stripped off the act?

Not masterminds, just bitterness is

dressed black. Not warriors, not sages,

not legends, not flames, just insecure

people playing dress up with names.

Maybe envy with the mic. Maybe ego with

teeth. Maybe hollowess talking while it

grinds underneath. Baby, all that

swagger is a tremoring drag. A paper

then thrown in a moth eating rag. You're

brave by committee, never brave by

yourself. Meet 10 other voices, just a

fake being felt. Every smear you launch

is confession and cold. You tell on your

soul every time you unload. You confuse

being cruel with being clever and sharp.

Confuse being loud with having something

like heart. Confuse cheap laughs with

truth and class. That's why every hit

you throw comes back as trash. You

wanted a villain, needed one for the

show, needed somewhere to point so your

rot wouldn't show. Now the joke writes

itself every time that you speak.

Because the loudest in the room is

usually the weak.

Say it with your face. Say it in the

light. Say it with your name. When

there's nobody in sight, no added, no

panel, no chorus, no brace. Just your

own thin spine and the heat you embrace.

You talk like a stone, but you crack

like a base. One good look at truth and

you shatter in place. All that smoke,

all that noise, all that fake disgrace.

If you mean to stand still and say it

with your face. So keep your little koi.

Keep your hungry routine. Keep feeding

on rumor like it's blood in a dream.

When the screen goes dark and the noise

leaves space.

What's left ain't power,

ain't wit, ain't grace. Just a scared

little hater who can't say it with their

face.