Why can’t you just be cheery
When I’m feeling so damn down
Couldn’t you just pick me up?
Instead you tie lead weights to my ankles
And wait for me to drown.
You wait until I’m rock bottom
Then dredge the silt so I can fall further.
Why can’t you be a balloon ?
I will split you with this forked tongue
You won’t know until it’s done
When half of you yearns
While the other squirms.
I will unleash what’s inside
A wicked tempest and tide.
Call me Pandora.Scream my wretched name
It’s not a game.
Well… not for you.
Do you deserve it ? Do you think you do?
Think. Think. Think.
Your creamy milky skin is ugly now.
Split. All over the floor.
I won’t cry over it anymore.
I read between the lines
And created worlds that did not exist
Your meaning may have been blurred
But in between there was:
I suppose I had to fill it with something.
I made more of your simple grammar
Created metaphors where there were none
I gave you credit for filling up my pages
But all you did was erase my story.
And though I drew strength from you
You destroyed me.
You made me forget the depths of my own source.
You tousled the jet black thoughts right out of my head
But doused me in your viscous well.
I will derive a new me to replace the old
The one as good as gold.
I’ll lock out the smokey hue of you soon enough.
You called my bluff with your huff.
You won’t blow my house down.
Not brick but better metal here.
The blood you taste is from your own knuckles.
There’s no buckling here.
Treat me mean? I won’t stay keen.
I’ll get bored if I’m not adored.
Giving me less doesn’t impress.
if I have to wonder too much
About our next touch
Or wait too long.
Absence makes my heart forget.
In a while crocodile?
Get F%#*ed Daffy Duck.
You took the liquid magic out of me
Siphon, siphon until I shriveled up
Became a prune.
“Why are you so wretched? ” You cried
When you are the one who left me dried. READ MORE
You’re the meaner of us both
I always thought I was
But your forked tongue and fangs
Have bitten off more than they can chew
Even for you.
I hope you choke.
Oh wait now it’s my turn.
I don’t really mean it but I sense that you do.
I sense your claws drawing
That’s quite the picture you’re painting.
Me in demon red
Using my blood.
Oh can we ever go back
To the lap dog days ?