Bled it out, one,
one day at a time.

I shouted at you.

You didn't cry.

I don't find none,
none is what I find.

I tried for you.

You didn't try.

Bled it out one day,
one day without time.

Maybe not a house,
but I'll buy us a trailer.

Three whites walk into a bar.

With a gaze like this,
***** is never too far.

Met this broad on tinder,
she told me that she was hesitant about dating
due to the fact that she just got out of
an abusive relationship.

Sounds like just my type of gal,
I wonder how her relationship with her father is.
I'm salivating now.

I sympathized with her, and said that I too
had just gotten out of an abusive relationship.
I recounted the story about how, after two years
of daily emotional and physical abuse,
my ex had at last found the courage and support
that she needed to finally leave my ***. That ****.

Something about a struggle,
relatable and common.
Some profound comparison,
or some kind of simile.

Something very human,
something about overcoming or
about accepting and embracing.
Something about relishing
in negativity,
something about addiction or loss.

Something indictive of heartbreak,
something reminiscent of love.

Something outlandish,
to stand out from the sea of adequacy.
Something something.
Words and
meanings.
Something self-loathing.

Something abstract,
something concrete.

Poetry.