Drinking you away is the most effective
and painful
way I can find.
The liqueur
that's supposed to make my lips loose
only looses lips on me.
I ******* hate myself.
Since when?
Since I can remember.
Since I passed past
that last bastion of childhood innocence.
And then introspection
and truth set in
and I really looked at myself
and examined my skills
and my attributes
and I found my self disgusted.
She says she thinks I'll find a perfect someone, someday.
Some say.
Something.
Similar.
Everyday.
Every ******* time.
I've tried harder to be a good person than any one I know.
I'd gladly throw myself in front of a bus for any of these unknown acquaintances.
Sacrifice is the only way to please them
only way to be worthwhile.
Maybe I only hang around scumbags.
Maybe I should find something better to do.
Maybe I should go live in a cave and howl at the moon and cut myself performing ancient ceremonies with flint worked obsidian stones.
Maybe I've lost it.
Maybe I never had it in the first place.
Maybe it doesn't matter.
Maybe only leaves me guessing.
Irrelevant of situation or circumstance;
I can still look deep inside;
past others opinions,
past the world outside,
past my influences,
past insults,
and compliments.
I can look for the deepest truth I know;
the only one to remain constant
and it will look me in the face
and say
your a worthless *******
finish it already *****.