Categories > Original > Poetry
Fuck you!
I'm done.
I just can't stand this shit anymore.
I have no clue what's buzzing around in your head.
Scorpion flies, beetles,
Gnats, the maggots themselves?
All of the above?
So what I do isn't good enough for you, huh?
You're not that important either.
We all have fans.
I had fans.
They adored me.
But evidently, not as much as you.
Yay.
Whoop-de-do.
La-de-da.
Scrawl one up on your side of the chalkboard,
And just get it over with.
I bet right now,
You think you're so special.
I bet right now,
You're doing your stupid little victory dance.
I bet right now,
You're tripping over your feet and smashing your face in.
Oh, the laughs you'll get.
Oh, the jeers.
That's what you came to escape right?
The ridicule.
The stabbing points.
"They love me."
"They'll never do that to me."
Okay.
Let's assume they do love you.
But let's not Assume too hard,
For it will sleep and awaken as Wish.
You'll arrive.
Dressed in black.
Ready as you'll ever be,
Pet mouse in hand,
All 104 of your keys in your pocketbook.
You've dance the night away,
Your feet blister and burn.
Ah, it's worth it.
I see the newspaper arrived.
Acid tears fall and burn holes through the material,
As you flip.
"I'm only on Page Six?"
"What the fuck?"
Oh, pooh!
That's not good enough!
Yet you sleep as peaceful,
As unnerving as you always do.
Now,
Reality.
Face it,
La-la land was never permanent.
Like the circus,
You have the time of your life and vow to come back everyday.
Then you return Thursday evening and find it's moved to Wisconsin.
We can't afford a train ticket, so I guess we're stuck here.
You arrive.
Blood stains your black dress,
So scarlet it illuminates against you.
Nervous and shaking,
You spew from anticipation.
You chase the night away.
Your feet blister and burn.
It does no good,
Because they still caught you.
Hesitantly the newspaper arrives.
Blood soaks the material,
As you flip.
"Great."
"The obituaries again."
Aw, shit!
That's just grand!
Yet, bones creak as you kiss the sticky floor.
Foolish of you,
To think this was additional.
Foolish of you,
To think The Bearded Lady would wait for you.
Foolish of you,
To throw away the receipt.
"I want to take it back but the cashier won't let me."
Gasp.
I wonder why.
No.
Wait.
I don't.
It's because you were,
Yes,
You saw it coming,
Foolish.
I knew I haven't learned my lesson.
Neither have you.
We're just two hard-headed twins,
Shunned by the society,
And forced to reside three feet below our new peers.
But as we lay,
Bunched together,
Our bodies twisted and contorted around each other,
We plot our escape.
And all we need in this cold,
Crowded 2x4,
Is a shovel.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Please REVIEW!!
I'm done.
I just can't stand this shit anymore.
I have no clue what's buzzing around in your head.
Scorpion flies, beetles,
Gnats, the maggots themselves?
All of the above?
So what I do isn't good enough for you, huh?
You're not that important either.
We all have fans.
I had fans.
They adored me.
But evidently, not as much as you.
Yay.
Whoop-de-do.
La-de-da.
Scrawl one up on your side of the chalkboard,
And just get it over with.
I bet right now,
You think you're so special.
I bet right now,
You're doing your stupid little victory dance.
I bet right now,
You're tripping over your feet and smashing your face in.
Oh, the laughs you'll get.
Oh, the jeers.
That's what you came to escape right?
The ridicule.
The stabbing points.
"They love me."
"They'll never do that to me."
Okay.
Let's assume they do love you.
But let's not Assume too hard,
For it will sleep and awaken as Wish.
You'll arrive.
Dressed in black.
Ready as you'll ever be,
Pet mouse in hand,
All 104 of your keys in your pocketbook.
You've dance the night away,
Your feet blister and burn.
Ah, it's worth it.
I see the newspaper arrived.
Acid tears fall and burn holes through the material,
As you flip.
"I'm only on Page Six?"
"What the fuck?"
Oh, pooh!
That's not good enough!
Yet you sleep as peaceful,
As unnerving as you always do.
Now,
Reality.
Face it,
La-la land was never permanent.
Like the circus,
You have the time of your life and vow to come back everyday.
Then you return Thursday evening and find it's moved to Wisconsin.
We can't afford a train ticket, so I guess we're stuck here.
You arrive.
Blood stains your black dress,
So scarlet it illuminates against you.
Nervous and shaking,
You spew from anticipation.
You chase the night away.
Your feet blister and burn.
It does no good,
Because they still caught you.
Hesitantly the newspaper arrives.
Blood soaks the material,
As you flip.
"Great."
"The obituaries again."
Aw, shit!
That's just grand!
Yet, bones creak as you kiss the sticky floor.
Foolish of you,
To think this was additional.
Foolish of you,
To think The Bearded Lady would wait for you.
Foolish of you,
To throw away the receipt.
"I want to take it back but the cashier won't let me."
Gasp.
I wonder why.
No.
Wait.
I don't.
It's because you were,
Yes,
You saw it coming,
Foolish.
I knew I haven't learned my lesson.
Neither have you.
We're just two hard-headed twins,
Shunned by the society,
And forced to reside three feet below our new peers.
But as we lay,
Bunched together,
Our bodies twisted and contorted around each other,
We plot our escape.
And all we need in this cold,
Crowded 2x4,
Is a shovel.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Please REVIEW!!
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