|
pushpins
|
~~well, this wants to be a song, but I have to work on it. a LOT. so maybe its just a fragment of a poem?~~ too much rhyming. *sigh*... When the doors are slamming, I find my calm. I clutch your plastic figure in my sweaty palm. The screams and pain flood the hall, but your caring can help heal it all. What happens if you leave me, then? will I feel this anger and misery again? so now you've gone and left me with a gaping void... maybe I'm just paranoid... but I've been feeling new lows today, and if I could go back in time, i'd make you stay. The fights are surrounding me, the lack of hospitality, they've been simply breaking me in two. and maybe if you weren't so lost i wouldn't feel so blue. har har...so the poem was written while my mom and her asshole boyfriend were having a fight right outside of my room (while holding a baby, might I add. I really wanted to take the baby away and take care of her so she wouldnt have to be in the middle, but when i get involved bad things happen)... the dood in the poem is someone a bunch of u know. hes gone, now...though. haven't talked to him in a while. probly understands I'm too little. too little of too much too small too insignificant too self centered, " i am not public property" well fuck you too. hm, this was a long explanation/rambling/crap. time for go.
|
020103
|