poet? how dare you
call yourself something so beautiful?
you, darling, you are nothing but a
disaster waiting to happen.
twisting would-be pretty words into explosive language,
hatred – fear – loss – guilt – shame –
you're no poet, sweetheart;
you're just another teenaged tragedy,
bleeding words from your eyes and hands.
hiding them within layers of paper and ink and truth,
you're nothing but a tragedy,
nothing but a goddamned tragedy.