| And yet a few more |
| Cut me Your love is a knife cutting thru my wrist since we broke up it cut deeper and deeper but not my wrist it's my heart whenever I see you the knife cuts deeper whenever you're around the knife cuts deeper whenever I see you avoiding me the knif cuts deeper when ever you break my heart little by little the knife cuts deeper It's the end of my heart it is cleaved in two a piece for me And one with you ever still Burn out As I lay here staring at the ceiling in a hospital in which i've been dreaming I feel my life it is slowly seeping it to the covers on which I'm sleeping I stare at the woefully white washed wall and I wonder will they remember me all my life I can feel it spent has gone to waste worth less then a cent I am not famous I leave no estate I have are my friends but they were great but now as my life slowly turns to tears will I be remembered in a few years If my memory dies then my life will have been for naught I will be a big nothing simply forgot play toy I have only one eye the child tore out the other when I was young My gutts were ripped out the child played tug of war with a dog I have only one ear my child decided that I needed a hair cut the child would pick me up by my leggs I'd be so dizzy when set down the child would pick me up with those peanut butter and blood hands my fur is so mangled My child she has grown past me I have been forgotten here I sit in this dark room on this old shelf all alone waiting for another child to come and play with me |
Now sleeps the savage brow that fretted and frowned to be drowned in a storm lashed sea of hate yet much to late to turn the scorn of that bitter morn on which I was born into an unseen fate then the gate of good and evil swung on the flimsy hinge upon which it hung not knowing which side to rest cursed from the first to be forgotten as dust A slave to petty slight consumed by every transgression mark it on my dark slate soul to carry it with me forever to remember every word and look every forgotten invitation each a nail carried in my pocket should the need arise to climb my well worn tree and nail myself to it Yes I am not hiding the fact that i have been down alleyways of too much use truth be told my cluttered heart is plunged in hate and has bleared the distinction between straight forardness and zipping buttons undone AND YES I am declining to reenter doorways unaccostomed to my overzealousness and sit before a family of inferrior to none but god stand while stardards NOT my own judge me unright, Evil AND FuCk YES I refuse with abhorence to unfold my hand slashing wrists in hoped acceptance but never allowed in and be driven with repentance faked with scrutiny of those feather fluffs of non emotion emotionally boggled by my current passivity with them looking on a cruel blatantly naked smile growing because I want it to |
| Well after a long time of nothing new here it is. NEW POETRY |