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Creating a Catastrophic Mistake takes Two
Word Vomit.
A spew of words heard many times before,
Engaging,
Enraging,
A projectile mess.
Confess, that everything you say is meaningless.
Distressed?
Don't fret,
I'm sure tomorrow that I will forget.
Abominations,
Our words are proclamations
Of everything you've hated.
With all the men you've dated,
and mated,
and me who you've created,
things are only how you've stated,
my ideas are unrelated.
Fated
To fail in a life you've rated
A perfect 10-
In casual conversation with friends-
Who are vain,
Not understanding,
Their visions all but pure-
broken and tainted.
My heart has fainted,
But don't fret,
Because I'm sure tomorrow I'll forget.
Lies.
A world that bleeds,
And cries and cries-
Surely your lies will be my demise-
My downfall-
How I lose it all.
But I am sure that's not what you mean,
Or at least-
Not what you mean to seem.
Irritation,
Aggrivation,
A stinging sensation,
Burning my nerves, too hard to control,
My eyes roll back into my head,
To be alive,
To be dead-
Who said that living had to be so much better?
Instead, I've read,
that this is a normal occurrence.
I'm fine this time,
But I think I can't deal anymore,
At least until a few of these old wounds heal.
And I am sre tomorrow that I'll forget what a prick you've been,
and how you've descended into my life,
time and time again,
and played your puppet games-
telling me that I am not who I am supposed to be,
and surely that I will
burn eternally.
And fret not will I,
and neither should you,
With all my walls removed-
I can surely escape from you.
And I am sure tomorrow that I'll forget,
but fret not because I say-
Tomorrow is tomorrow, and today is today.
