Invisible Knives

He sends in spies to see if its over.
The spy gets a call
They exchange their hellos, but when I am mentioned:
A short response
A disgusted "Why?"
The spy turns to me saying, "he says hi"

Simply sitting in my house,
Being betrayed by someone I thought I could almost trust.
Beauty always turns to rust.

They continue their convorsation
As if I am not here.
Although, I am listening,
Every word.
I can hear.

"Can I use your computer really quick?
I promise it won't be long,
I just want you to hear this song.
We can get back to work right after."

Internet blogs all seem to hate me, or at least the writers do.

The spy checks her messages for the video sent, opens and watches.
I silently sit on my floor
Debating walking out my own door.
The spy types a hidden reply to her main command,
As if she had a knife in her hand.

Its all an act, I can see.
He sent you here to spy on me.
You had questioned me before,
Before I couldn't clearly see,
Before i knew what all of this was all about.
For having near perfect vision, I can certainly be blind.
His face had clouded my once clear mind.

His spy turns off my computer
"okay, let's get back to work."
A warm trickling glides down my back.
The spy reaches into her sack,
Retrieving her book.
She's giving me such an odd look.

I doubt she has realized the reason I am bleeding,
Or what kind of life, she is now leading.