This is not a game.
I am not going to be controlled by some stupid,
Player like yourself.
I am not a piece in your game,
So stop treating me like plastic.
Stop pretending you can use me to win,
Where you get all the benefits,
And I get absolutely nothing in return.
You use me to get what you want,
Then you push me to the side.
You don't need me anymore.
A winner deserves better.
But in my book you are not a winner.
You may have learned how to control me once,
How to own me,
How to make me do whatever it takes for you to win.
But never again will I allow that to happen.
And now I'm just trapped in a box,
A dreadful box you placed me in.
You make it a point to play me again sometime,
But quite simply never get around to it.
You used me like a piece in a game.
And do you know how that feels?
I have never felt so unwanted,
In my entire life.
But you don't care,
Because you are the game master,
And you will do whatever it takes to win.
I get genuinely psychotic in the morning
when the sun creeps out to see
If I slept last night I would want to put a gun in my mouth
(breakfast with coffee, black)
just you and me.
I get depressed long and hard, and often feel like
the cream cheese that you scrape off your bagel.
As the hour goes on everyone's two dimensional
(photo-copy of photo-copied, of photo-copy)
and you are scraping your bagel
of the unwanted (but served anyway) cream cheese,
"You," (probably the plastic knife in this analogy) "drive me..."
Spat! in the trash
as your upturned nose tells me how much our days together
are measured in inches, not yards.
It a little too late now
She's already gone
No one was there
When things went wrong
She did it to herself
It was only a matter of time
She didn't know that
She was one of a kind
She didn't know that she was loved
She felt alone
Not at home
She didn't speak out
Just out of fear
She wouldn't reach out
She thought no one would hear
She was told I love you
A little too late
She was told you're worth it
A little too late
She didn't know it wasn't too late
So she did it anyway
She didn't know if anyone would care
She wanted to end the pain
She didn't know about how much she would cause
To everyone around her
To everyone she loved
It's a little too late now
And the damage is done
It's getting late now
You sit at her grave to watch the setting sun
Always thinking of her terrible fate
Always thinking about how you were
A little too late.
Are you a Black Sheep?
The one they all say is responsible
For every unwanted moment
Ah yes, you must be self involved
Because you are different
Because they do not understand
What you are
That you are alone
Wanting to be accepted
That is all a Black Sheep can ask
But Black Sheep you shall remain
It is alright friend
Oh Helena, how I doth know thy pain
Mocked is thine love when at love's feet thrown
Love hath looked upon thee with disdain
And yet still for him thy love hath grown
Do not despair Cupid's arrow at thine door does knock!
Upon thee, loves eyes an awakening will be placed
No longer can love's spiteful eyes see thee and mock!
And to thine love will he quickly rush in haste
But first know before one is to have thy way
A comedy must first be struck upon
Alas Puck! Disaster hath struck and a game we must all play
Before order is once more restored and the past foregone
Oh no! Now a love thrown upon thee unwanted
Mockery suspected, no more of this dost thou deserve
Evermore another feeling given to thee daunted
But now sit back, let the story unfurl and observe!
Finally soft words to thee spoken so craved
At once entranced but then felt thee a fool!
From nowhere sweet words so spoken must be depraved!
And in thine heart feeling loves sting ever so cruel
Now thy dearest friend! Intertwined within such a conspiracy
Such betrayal! Dear girl know it is a mistake
Albeit twisted and buried in the cruelest irony
Thy dearest friend, thine love she does not wish to shake
Through troubles and trials thou maketh thy way to a beautiful field
Fast asleep next to the love thy value ever so
Puck, fix thy mistake, give Helena her love to finally wield
And at last house a mutual love to forever grow
i prefer to brush my teeth
to the point where my gums bleed
and pull the floss down hard
between my pearly whites,
grinding the thread back and forth.
i get chills down my back
when i get a papercut
and i can see the blood
slowly come out in little round balls,
or when i rip a hangnail down my thumb
and i can see the fresh layer of skin.
my body goes numb
and my mind draws a blank
when he bites at my neck,
even better when it leaves a bruise.
the feeling i get
when his hand suddenly meets
the bare skin of my lower body
is pure ecstacy, i could only imagine
what it would be like
if my brain was on a high.
the sting and the should-be negative,
or unwanted, emotions
are what i strive for in life.
i like the feel
of the pain
but not when i'm alone.