Bullets and cuts couldnt hurt me like you
you ravage and visibly cut down every image i have pasted up on this wall.
the wall between myself and myself.
yes i said myself and MYSELF.
the me thats like HEY you are perfect for me, evey litle thing we have in common imtelling you you are amazing.
but you knwo your not.
my ego builder satisfuies for the moment.
until you spit me away like a watermelon seed well drained of flavor.
myself and myself.
the wall between both is crashing down.
and u saw it coming 400 yards away.
the other me who says damn you are not someone i would ever watse my time on.
you are not as intelligent as i thought
you do not have very good ideas
i actually DO not agree with you on that.
myself and myself.
razors, papercuts, shanks, scalpels,
knives, machetes, 12 gauge rifles, blowtorches, and a fucking cannon could not hurt me like you do.
and this is not, i repeat, this is not, a love hate poem.
you knwo the kind whining of how much some asshole tore out my heart and spit on it.
no
this is realistic.
a cannon could blow a hole straight thru to the other side and take my breath from my body. but you, conniving, social parasite you are,
cannot take my breath.
only can my mind play tricks on my body and seem to draw strings from my chest as if, pulling the life out of me, string by string, by s t r i n g.
so realistically , this is not a love hate poem. this is my way or the highway
you said.
or so i think.
enlighten me..
im one step behind.
B.Young.copyright.2007
Currently reading :
Cause of Death : A Writer's Guide to Death, Murder and Forensic Medicine (Howdunit Series)
By Keith D. Wilson
Release date: By September, 1992
