Jeopardised Plain Jane

Father; that's what you became by mindless ******* but
******* is what thee should be named as...
Tis' kingdom thy rule over me in fascism
How humble of thee in declaring thy failure in me
Eroding my confidence with your constant belittling
Reminding me I am ne'er taken seriously anywhere, not even in my only known 'refuge'.

I want to say ******* to this person but that would be paradoxical(?) cause I wished this person never ****** enough to curse me with an existence in this cesspool of a world.

#father #explicit

Jeopardised Plain Jane Aug 2020

Bones and Blood

It wasn't what you imagined; blessings did not flood,
when you gave me a shell of bones and blood...
You have an unfathomable mix of bravado and audacity;
wearing rose-tinted parenthood glasses out of stupidity...

As a child, did you actually believe in fairy tales?
Believing in white dresses and veils,
believing in propagating your subpar genes
are your happy-ever-after means...

Seeking for happy-ever-after as if a princess in a fable
when you grew up with bare minimum food on the table?
Tying the knot early before advancing your career;
being brainwashed into spinsterhood fear...

Schooled you were, but never interested in knowledge you are.
Concerns of my social abilities are far from your care.
You love to demand respect by brandishing parental authority
while you were meeting only the bare parental necessity.

Yes, the world doesn't owe me anything
but you owe me everything
for giving me a meaningless shell of bones and blood.

I wish wasn't born, then I don't have to die or think about the afterlife. I have been lonely for most of my life and will probably be lonely until the day I die, which I hope will not be too far off from now.
Anyone who says things will get better is more often than not lying through their teeth.

#antinatalism #parents #meaningless #life #born

Jeopardised Plain Jane Jul 2020

3 a.m

Here I am
once again..
It's 3 a.m
a rhyming game...

Daylight conventions taught
dictates all the 'ought's,
I couldn't pour a daylight thought
against the conventional odds.

An acquaintance, he died,
Sympathy I tried;
Empathy I tried;
but my feelings were dried.

I wonder why,
did I cry?
Not out of sadness
but of emptiness.

3 a.m is too good a time,
where the air is sublime,
to be wasted on sleeping
instead of weeping.

3 a.ms often make me wonder
if age is really just a number
on a waiting lift to mortality
or a mere human banality.

Here I am again
pouring my pain
for no gain
playing the 3 a.m rhyming game.

I am jealous of a person who died a peaceful death. Why can't people who want to die be blessed with death?

#3am #convention #human #rhyme #game #death