I Want to Explode

I’m tired of being nice.

I’m tired of loving everyone.

I’m sick of treating people

The way they want to be treated.

I’m done with friendly handshakes,

And casual conversation.

… And I have a secret desire to confront, a confession to make:

I WANT TO EXPLODE!

It’s depressing to find,

That I’m really just waiting for a time when

(And I’m not picky) someone says the

Absolute

Perfect

Thing

That will allow me to go bat-shit insane.

Because at this point,

Being Nicholson sounds like fun,

And while chasing after people with an axe isn’t exactly subtle,

I’m not picky.

Personally,

Pachino sits well with me,

Although I’m not one for cocaine and cheap kills,

But I’m not picky.

And at this moment,

I could take a page from DeNiro’s book,

but shaving my hair into a Mohawk and shooting everyone,

Isn’t the best way to handle the situation; it just shows that I’m not picky.

So please,

Take a mental note;

I’m tired,

And I’m sick,

And I’m done,

But most of all, know this:

I’m biding my time,

Patiently

Benevolently

Secretly

Scarily

Vindictively

For you to say the absolute, perfect, thing,

THAT WILL MAKE ME EXPLODE!

So be careful… because I’m not picky.