the sky eats up these unsaid
words and leaves a drastic blue
hole in the world which you cannot
see because you are blind to
casualities and indifference pours
in your tinkering heart like an
extented limb that was fucked up
in the first place, so now i will get
rid of this anger that wobbles itself
in me, drunk on minor issues where
my mind has to worry about the
wordly sacrifices when you take the
huge truck that gives me red sick
pollution, and i can't breathe but
of course, that cannot be your problem
because we all deal with our problems
by ourselves right? but no one listens
and i'm bottled with your stupid
longings that choke me and my muse
has decided she wants her suicide
done with perfection: note, blood,
smiles, happy dreams, pills. like she
doesn't care about me. i'm beginning
to wonder if she thinks i'm going down
as well. (?). Oh crap, but won't that be
so damn interesting to you, that you
see the world i made for you cut up
and dry itself out in the ugly sunshine
and my memory can hold onto only
so much, you should string the ones
i cannot remember for a rainy day will you not?
right now, i feel like i'm about to
explode and yes, i'm sorry i cannot
come up with the initiation of good
solid poetry for you at the moment.