Build Me a Backbone

Your scent of my motives is weak.
My denial falters your judgment.
You ask. I banter. Derailing your train of thought.
My time standing up is straight is spent.

Build me a backbone to rest upon.
A wall to support my structure.
A skeletal fragment of nerve.
A way to inhale your lecture.

God must be playing a game.
I'm the tinker toy of his choice.
Please build me a backbone.
Not of flesh and tissue just used to hoist.

I'm deceitful in all of my ways but most.
A few things locked in my passionate folder.
So would you please build me a backbone?
To seize this off of my shoulders.

I have a spine.
Composed of cartilage and nerve endings.
Used to feel, heal, hurt, and repair.
But a backbone is what I need to barricade my pretending.

As proud as I am.
As happy as I seem.
I am a excavated ribcage.
Build me a backbone just for me.

I keep spreading this rumor.
Someone isn't who they seem.
I am intimately that person.
The internal droid that hides my dream.

Build it from fact.
With my in crested signature.
Fasten it into my soul.
Sync it with a ligature.

So build me a backbone.
Stop my eager grinning tooth.
It spreads so little from it's stained friend.
It leaks all but my determined truth.