You hear my words as they roll off my tongue,
I hear yours,
I see that sometimes my passion deceives,
But all I want,
is to voice it.
I’ve felt such sadness
I’ve felt such loneliness
But still you do not hear me.
What can I say to make this voice even louder
I know the color of death
As fresh as an hour,
Washed gone with a load of clothes,
Faded like paper.
I know the sticky fingers of a mans and how it lingers,
Like salt on your skin,
Sugar under your nails
I know the cold floor of a bathroom
So cold it reaches into my soul
Grabs hold of every last breath
As I try to call out to you.
I could scream at you I feel so lost.
I could rip out my heart,
that’s how little I feel it
As you talk down to me.
May 30th, you *******. The day I finally saw myself clearly and you as the ******* you are. I don't think you will ever produce something worth while, for you do not have anything important to say, and the way to say it.