I can no longer distinguish
The blurred line between
Realism and pessimism
Because I've grown to be an
Idealistic pessimist with twinges of
Realistic thought

I have given you everything
All my time
My thoughts
My words
My heart
And you aren't even there
I'm ready to ******* shoot up
Some ****** tennis court
Not that I ever would
Godfuckingdammit
It is unacceptable for you to do this to me
Because despite what I've
Showcased in the past
I am far different than I once was
When you first met me
You have to understand
I will not be spending
Three ******* months chasing
Your cheating loser ***
Because as much as I have
And still do
Love you
I will not be that girl again
So darling,
It's time to ******* man up
Because you're really ******* me off

I was so ******* done
So **** exhausted
So I locked up my memories
In the sweet little chest
With golden filigree
And a burgundy base
A bit of raised embossing
And an engraving that read,
"Do not open,
For these are incapable of cherishment"
I set  it on the highest shelf
Of the unused linen closet
And I lit a candle
Placed it on the shelf beneath
And locked the door
I walked away for an hour or so
But the candle had died
So in my fit of anger
I ran to the furnace
I opened the door
And turned
Every thermostat in the house
Up to the highest point
And just for good measure
I lit a match
And placed it under the door
I went to sleep surrounded by flames
To my demise the firemen came
And when all that remained
Was that **** laughing box
They thought I might want to see
Because they opened the box
Unknowing of the horrors inside
And once again
Like an LSD addict
Knowing the trip might be bad
I threw another ******* match

Deep in the hundred acre woods
Where Christopher Robin plays
You’ll find the enchanted neighborhood of Christopher's childhood days
A donkey named Eeyore is his friend
And kanga and little Roo
There’s Rabbit and Piglet
And there’s Owl
But most of all

When we’re human and we’re gonna be
I’m gonna blow my horn
(doodle-dee-loo)
I’m gonna live the high life
I’m gonna do my best to

Kiss the girl
Sha lalalalala
My oh my
Looks like the boy’s too shy
Ain’t gonna kiss the

Girl worth fighting for
My girl will think I have no faults
That I’m a major find
How bout a girl who’s got a brain
And always speaks her mind?
My manly ways and turn of
Phrase are sure to thrill her
He thinks he’s such a

Little black raincloud
Hovering under the hunny tree
I’m only a little black raincloud
Pay no attention to little

You poor unfortunate souls
In pain
In need
This one longing to be thinner
This one wants to get the girl
And do I help them?
Yes indeed
Those poor unfortunate

Friends from the other side
The cards, the cards,
The cards will tell
The past, the present, and the future as well
The cards, the cards,
Just take three
Take a little trip into your future with me

Be our guest
Be our guest
Put the our service to the test
Tie your napkin round your neck, chérie
And we’ll provide

The aggravation
That’s ancient history
Been there
Done that
Who you think you’re kiddin
He’s the earth and heaven to ya
Try to keep it hidden
Honey, we can see right through you
Girl ya can’t conceal it
We know how ya

Will never pass for a perfect bride
Or a perfect daughter
Can it be
I’m not meant to play this part

And at last I see the light
And it’s like a fog’s been lifted
And at last I see the light
And it’s like the sky is

A whole new world
A dazzling place I never knew
But when I’m way up here
It’s crystal clear

I have often dreamed
Of a far off place
Where a great big welcome
Will be waiting for me
Where the crowds will cheer

Beauty and the beast
Tale as old as time
Song as old as rhyme
Beauty and the Beast

There is a fine line
You lean toward the latter

I don’t know*
your pain,
I don’t know
how you feel.
I can only infer it
from your behavior
and the time it takes
for you to heal.

© Matthew Harlovic

A chemical imbalance
of dope and dopamine
opened a gateway to
her infernal machine
but her callous indifference
to change her routine,
only nurtured her aggression
towards maternal genes.

© Matthew Harlovic

i wilted in the winter,
withered in the spring.
the summer was a
****** but i wonder
what the fall will bring.

© Matthew Harlovic

after the author’s death
bury his work with his last breath*

© Matthew Harlovic