selfhatred
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It’s because I love you,
That I would make you cry.
And that’s why
I’m your greatest ally.
It’s because I love you,
And I never felt so incomplete, so unfathomably hallow. That my desire for writing is so undeniably impaired, that my thoughts turned shallow. no buoyancy here only despair and these obsessive inquiries about why I wasn't adequate.
My mother's crying
My father's gone
My brother's screaming
I am singing,
I think I'll take a walk
My friends aren't listening
My teachers don't care
The walls are closing in
1/2 decade back thinking
this next year'd be a short one
That's When
27 meant lewd poses for crowds of horny nubiles
I’ll admit, I’m selfish
I have a greed for things that I don’t have
The list of things I want fills encyclopedias
Dictionary-sized lengths of words telling of my desires
I can’t write it all out without aching
Her skin is pale, making the dark areas around her eyes protrude in stark contrast.
Her eyes are weary, cautious. A penned up animal.
Her body is wiry, thin, long. Spindly, like a cat or a spider. Agile and possible deadly.
I miss her,
Where has she gone you say?
I don't know,
I'm just a hollow shell of her now,
the smiles fake;
the laughter off;
where has she gone?
To the land of heartbreak.
I hate the way you look with your fucking green eyes glistening in the sun
That bump on your nose that makes it look like anyone can just ski right off of it
I’ve found my new addiction,
these pretty little pills.
I line them up and sort them,
taking them by will.
Each pill holds a meaning of it’s own,
memories of the past will soon feel like home.
Little girl, why so sad?
Tired of being pushed down again and again?
Well my dear there’s a simple solution,
no, no, you won’t go mad.
It’s simple really, but you mustn’t be fooled,
Look at her and what do you see,
a happy, cheerful, girl, full of glee?
Well look behind that mask,
that has been so neatly painted on,
for your little girl is long, long gone.
