I'm getting tired of walking into brick walls Wherever I go. This time when I talked to you It didn't sting as much because I now know to shower In acid before we converse. I don't mock you... Ever. I have never laid a figurative finger on you, Yet when I open up, even if it's just a small splice
Down the center of my chest, you swat away what I Have to say like it's nothing but a pest. So, I will humour You, since the only thing your low opinion of me does Now is amuse me. I chew on your words, let them cut The inside of my mouth like knives. Your look, your laugh Resonate within me until I am thoroughly encompassed
By a magnified mocking so alive I can't tell where that Image ends and I begin.
First I had writers block, then I was busy, and now I'm still busy but at least I managed to record something of my overly-sentimental feelings from these past few days. I probably could have written this better but oddly enough I don't want to.