This isn't a poem that I could write easily.
It is but a reply to a kind girl I cherish. That I hope she never reads.
On awful days like this I think of you, though I shouldn't.
The spiteful guy who knows you betrayed him.
Should the book of life be written, I would argue it's pages to say you betrayed me.
Lo, the poison spreads.
I can't help that you are human.
That you were broken over and over again by your abusers.
And hate these arms of mine for being one of them.
Lo, the toxin wears.
I am a tired man who curses those to whom he protects.
When you smiled at me, I felt truly alive!
I have gone too long without that smile. It is kept from me and these loving eyes.
Because these eyes are killers eyes.
This heart, will rise again.
And my soul will corrupt.
The price I pay for being a big fat liar.
And the pain I feel for loving someone for whom it is impossible to love. One disgusting hopeless narcissist to another.
---------Thoughtful Strangers letter---------
If we meet, I'd like to watch the sunset with you. And call you a pathetic woman with no talent whatsoever at finding happiness. And a ***** who is so predictable, I could tell her future looking into dog **** rather than a crystal ball. That I actually wanted you to save me from the disgusting people I called family. And that unlike you, I was enlightened to understand just why I have to think through everything in front of me. I don't drink, I don't smoke and I don't do drugs like you because I don't have the luxury of serving my own purpose of self-satisfaction because this body won't let me. That you broke my heart when these, my only pair of eyes made you feel afraid when I looked at you in my most loving gaze.
Now I look into the mirror and see something disgusting that truly should not exist. So before I die, never feeling the touch of one who loves me. I hope you suffer. Just like I always knew you would and wanted you to. I hope you die ******. That horrible future I see is a lot kinder than the hell I've been confined too. Trapped like a cockroach. With a beautiful heart that poisons everything it touches. And hurts every time it remembers that he has no friends.
I can only hope it's easier not to care.
It always seemed counter intuitive to me. Why release my inner thoughts to the world, why seek people to read it when I don't want anyone to ever talk about it? The answer is sucky. It's because I believe there is a god who will answer my prayers to make this all go away. And I hope someone, anyone will want to be friends with me after reading this trash.