****
I Hate this ****
Aggravated faith Vs. Masochistic taste
Seep and stains the screen I frame with
Weightless words, time taken to assure
The fake sincerity makes me sick.
A reactive phrasing fabricated naturally
Placating waves of faces waiting to for their turn to say 'I'm Running Late'.
Now games on with strange men who make friends that know me, who show off these women from craigslist like trophies, I see she's an A-list employee who enjoys the work and I start to sweat, she might break my heart but I call to check, she's on the way and I settle debts, then I'm done.
Insult to injury, my impulsive witchery, her careless fake name engagement doesn't conceal my betrayal felt.
Great lame dumb freight train stuck eight lanes of state strays search daily to entertain my ******* wife with *******. I'm done.
Last straw, I've had it, was this rom-com or tragic, papa don-jon in the attic telling me to leave it be and keep at it, but I'm numb, dumb and emphatic, my Jessica rabbit is long gone, her swan song a hat trick, **** that chick grew wings quick, cleaned out her **** like mary pip, packed and pomp she asked to sit, smile set smug, with a cigarrette to her lips, she exhaled and leaned in, I'm still confused about todays events when her voice spoke that final cent, it said
"I always win."
Truthfully, it's the last thing I remember, and then I wake up alone with some bottles of gin to the police brutally beating on my door, and my wife adorning the walls.
