(no subject)
drinking beer from your lips
(the softest sips)
with your hands on my hips
and I listen for the whisper
of your sweet insanity
while I formulate denial
of your affect on me...
with fruedian slips
and eager fingertips
he strips
I'm afraid to
think.feel.write.say.
express
what I feel.
he touched me today....he hurt me today
I took the picture of him in the garden. it had been standing there, neatly framed on my desk for three years. I smashed the glass of the frame. it shattered and flew all over the place. I took the picture out. I burnt it. watched it curl up and burn. flames high and warm, licking his face, erasing it. bye bye. I waited until the glow of all the embers had died away. I wish I could set him on fire, instead of his pictures. dump him in kerosine and hear his scream like I screamed. see him in pain like I was in pain. watch him wither like I withered. I don't care if you think me wicked. wretched. bitter. I am. and I have every right. I hope he blackens like I've blackened. I hope he dies like I died.
and just for the record,
just so you know,
I did not believe that you could sink so low...
next time you try to commit "suicide" I hope you succeed. but then, you never will, you've never tried it, have you?
baby's got a problem
tries so hard to hide
got to keep it on the surface
'cause everything else is dead on the other side...