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rockywhoreor Jul 2014
I woke up with a splitting headache,
I may drink too much but my parents dont need to know that.
I had to forget that wretched evening and it was my only way out.
My reflection was a dissapointment,
as always.
There were no letters with my adress and no messages with my name.
I was starting to act like my father,
it was unavoidable, I know.
But a part of me had no desire in a broken future,
I had cut a sliver of daydreams,
child's play.
But this was reality I was facing.
It wasn't facing,
more like nodding in agreement.
I had no fight left in me.
Nothing to lose.  
Nothing to gain.

Im now falling asleep at my desk,
adjusting for a new day ahead.
We're all adjusting, but no one is actually comfortable.
My arms are spotted with bruises
as the bottle settles my dreary mind.
I dont know how long I can perform this act.
Re-runs aren't appreciated anyway.
So why dont you take me off the air.
Or perhaps,
just shatter me into pieces
on the blood stained
kitchen floor.
rockywhoreor Jul 2014
Dont you dare tell me
to be optimistic
when you yell in my face
and bring up past mistakes
and develop a sour taste
and question my fate
and say get over this phase.
Dont you dare order me to love you, when you can't even love yourself.
rockywhoreor Jul 2014
The majority
of my existence
consists of wandering in
the crinkled creases
of my cranium,
waiting for another soul
to pass by this
shattered *******.

— The End —