"addictions" poems
Beautiful. How do you describe this when beauty is claimed differently for everyone...
Every Man , Woman , and Child is adored by another dazzling human being . These people are beautiful despite faults , addictions , and wrecks of emotion . I yearn to discover the beauty that lies beneath a person's skin .
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 12:25 AM UTC
I considered you
As my sister.
I knew love
Through our friendship
I laughed with you
Cried with you
Stayed awake all night with you.
Your addictions died hard
I was there when you needed me
I made sure you got help
And we got through it together.
You called yourself my twin
But can you tell me,
Does one twin,
Betray the other?
I told you everything
Let you climb the solid wall
I'd built so high.
I thought you could never hurt me
I thought you'd never betray me.
I thought I could trust you
Coz of every sweet word you said to me.
Now I know,
Where your loyalties lie.
You pushed me aside,
A huge part of me died.
But that's just fine,
You carry on saying things
Saying I'm a ****
Behind my back.
You can carry on calling me
All the names under the sun.
To hell with your friendship.
I'm done!
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 6:24 AM UTC
Yes, I am fat and these are my addictions-
You feed me too much of your love at all seasons
Your wisdom makes my mind bulging with lessons
I am too fat now, you know the reasons
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 4:43 PM UTC
My pain is not a poem,
my poetry isn't poetic.
It's cryptic and a message,
cutting up and breaking
branches. Comprehensive;
my poems are suicidal, files of
medications and prescriptions
are seemingly all my mind
can write. Jumping to conclusions
and indenting my addictions,
inflicting this confliction, convictions
I don't mention. Those rhymes that
I have wrote; it was the drowning as I broke,
a broken draft of notes, that sing:
"you'll never learn to float,"
Acid, or is it water?
I'm hoping for the latter,
well I guess it never mattered,
years doubled and I'm sadder.
When does it get better?
When do I get better?
I guess it never will, and I'm
home but I'm not here,
I'm stuck, I'm stuck, I'm stuck,
and all my heart
can pump is tears-
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 8:06 PM UTC
She said she would be willing to get a matching tattoo
with me. A flower permanently imprinted on our skin.
She likes orchids, I like lilies. And even after moving
away she understands my addictions; growing old,
the rain, Team Gibbs, bats, my love for pistachios
and maybe even my need to come back home.
As much as I love Ohio, it’s nice to go home
every once and awhile. Saving up for my tattoo
is not easy when I keep spending my money on M&M;’s and pistachios,
especially when my mother isn’t there to pinch my skin
and tell me to put my wallet away. She’s not old—
but I certainly feel like I am when she says she’s moving
away from me. I toss and turn and move
in my sleep thinking about how home
will never be the same without her. The cats are getting old;
their time is coming. Maybe we should get a tattoo
of them instead of flowers—light and dark brown skin
warm and cuddled together, munching on pistachios.
I remember when I first became addicted to pistachios.
It was a church Christmas party and the wine was moving
closer to my hands. Mom said I could, as I felt the buzz of my skin
react to my fourth glass. She shook her head and drove me home
laughing at my sneaky attempts to act sober. A tattoo
was out of the question; what would I think when I got old?
Our relationship now has changed, intimate friends never too old
to dance or talk about our *** lives, throwing pistachios
at each other or plan out our future tattoos.
I am going to miss her, and she me, as she moves
on with her dreams, starting over, building a new home
In a place we’ve never known, but always in the same skin
that I have loved my whole life. A soft, toasted skin
that has been passed down to me for my days of old.
Born, nurtured, taught and loved in my mother’s home;
home-cooked meals that surpass the freshest of pistachios
so I would one day learn how to cook. No matter where she moves,
my mother will remain deep in my heart, my skin—like a tattoo.
She gave me my skin and approved of my tattoo,
provided me with a home complete with pistachios
and an old promise: her heart is unmoving.
Feb 28, 2011
Feb 28, 2011 at 8:03 AM UTC
We all have habits
Hang ups we turn to when words fade from use
When the touch of another feels false
And the skin that you're in feels ill-fitting and loose
Of addictions we choose, are you the user or the used?
Light-headed from smoking far too many cigarettes
But it's better than the spins I get when your name is said
Her toxicity is met with one of my own
Eroding with every upturned stone
To find a reason to use the air in my lungs to talk to her
Instead of fill them up with smoke
But I don't.
Returning burning bile from drinking far too many drinks
But it's better than the taste of blood from getting hit in the face
A father who longs for the respect of fear
Maybe he hits you because he hates himself
And he sees in you the colour of his eyes or the curl of his hair
Or maybe he just does it because it's easier to hurt than to love
The same way you drink because it's easier to be drunk than to forgive.
So **** anyone who does anything to keep you from being able to live
But try to forgive
Not for them, but for you, to begin to heal these wounds
Because your peace of mind was not built for two
Live while they rue.
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 1:20 AM UTC
But maybe it not really sadness for a reason.
What if you've just been hurt a lot so the feeling becomes normal.
You know; that sad feeling?
It's not really sadness you show either.
It's not a sadness where you cry all the time and you're always frowning.
You hide the sadness with smiles and laughs.
Convincing yourself you're completly fine.
You get used to it.
Or maybe it's not the kind of sadness where you have a reason to be sad.
You just are.
You don't want to see anyone
or talk
or eat
or do anything.
Maybe we get so used to feeling this sadness in a way we are addicted;
because that's all we know?
But maybe it's not necessarily the sadness we get addicted to.
Rather,
what we do to stop the sadness.
Maybe we really just get addicted to whatever is going to **** the pain at the end of the day.
Or maybe that pain at the end of the day is what's going to cause us to finally feel something;
because we've been numb for so long.
We arn't necessarily sad, but we arn't really happy either.
We just are.
But maybe at the same time maybe we are sad.
And we're sad because we numb,
and we don't care anymore.
But maybe we should care?
Becuase when we don't care we tend to hurt others.
But they hurt us so why not hurt them?
I mean, isn't it only fair they feel the same pain.
Or maybe...
We all have secret addictions no one knows.
May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 1:57 AM UTC
when I met you
I was a ******
To ***
Drugs
Self harm
When you left me
I was drowning in addictions
Self mutilating the body
I gave to anyone
Just to feel anything
Even close
To the way your toxic touch
Made me feel
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 4:09 PM UTC
I've been told that a catapiller wrapped snuggly in it's cacoon like the bed-time burrito of my youth feels very simular to the feeling i give when i hug. I've been told that i squeez just right, with the warmth of a summer night. I've been told I hug like a lover seeing her soldier for the first time in years. The few people i hug ask me how i hug so well.
I don't.
I hug with the pain of yesterday.
I hug with the scars on my wrists and the blood on my legs.
I hug with the overdoses, the addictions, the emptyness, the abondonment.
When i hug, i send a message.
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 12:12 AM UTC
Does my computer dream?
Is this puzzle what it seems?
What are a computer's dreams?
Maybe dreams exist in this machine,
The outsider in my room,
Designed to make us feel like fools,
Addictions seductive,
Hitech savvy so productive,
A puzzle, so it seems,
Does a computer ever dream?
Feb 26, 2016
Feb 26, 2016 at 10:17 PM UTC
Addiction *****
It's such a killer
Addictions fun
A raging thriller
Weathers its a bag of twack
Or a fat green sack
It doesn't really matter
You could shoot pancake batter
**** or ****
*** with Beth
Just remember its not fiction
That disease you have is called addiction
See it works in such a horrid way
It controls you'r thoughts and what you say
And when it comes down to the end of the day
You probably going to do what it takes to pay
Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 3:31 AM UTC
The world is my canvas,
I am the rainbow that illuminates it.
My colors fill the open spaces surrounding me.
I see beauty with my eyes closed,
I speak my wisest words without a strain in my vocal cords,
I lead an army with no weapons.
I speak when I am not spoken to.
I create Unity and destroy resentment.
A man I once bought dinner for
had a body filled with darkness ,
I met his lurking shadow before I was introduced to his warm soul.
"I can't make it another day"
"this is no longer a game that I can play"
"I want to break away from my fate"
"3 big macs and a bottle of ***** that will help me think straight"
"I have this hole in my heart but its feeling more like a never ending weight"
his overused cardboard sign hung off of the side of his garbage filled shopping cart.
his fingertips froze against my palm
we talked about his life
his brother and mom
their drug addictions
and how he has survived so long,
he was 32
with no home.
he understood life in only one tone.
i feed,
I listen,
I speak influential truth.
what I said to him,
through my guitar callused hands,
saved his delicate life.
Purple vibrated through his toxic chest.
Purple.
the color of
wealth
power
creativity,
independence
dignity and wisdom.
purple filled His veins.
My weaponless army will proceed to expand.
and my soul will always be available for helping hands,
my guidance will forever lurk in the dangerous shadows,
I will speak when I am not spoken to because
speaking out of turn
saves souls.
and one day, everyone's soul will drown in purple.
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 11:01 AM UTC
Lipstick cigarettes and the empty soul of modern rock n' roll
laid in ruin amongst my collection of black soul addictions and sultry benedictions.
MIDI saxophones and an ex-girlfriend on the telephone
directing me to find my home, to rebuild the comb, to banish the bartender and the Reverend ******
Alamo idiot stand and a neon Jesus
waving newcomers into the whitewashed port town known as "Cuba North".
At the Caged Gorilla, Linda, the waitress,
laughs through yellowed teeth, while my bloodshot eyes crawl up her red gums.
Binge'd and my brain keeps parallel with the ceiling fan
while a plain clothes cop tries to give me the reprimand for nostalgic mischiefs.
Handcuffed and looking for that old fiend, Freedom,
while Miranda spews on the back of my skull, slides down my shoulders, dots the cement.
Out the door and tourists with cameras looking for evil behind my irises,
but I can assure my handshakes feel the same, I'm front pew tame, and I blend with the parade.
Jan 12, 2012
Jan 12, 2012 at 7:13 PM UTC
I’m Drowning in the noise.
I’m Drowning in the noise.
Tried to drown out my pain,
With things.
But it couldn’t fill the void.
I’m just Drowning in this noise!
I’m Drowning in this noise!
Feels like I’ve been sinking.
Drowning in the ocean of my mind.
No time for me to start breathing.
For I’m stressing about what I could potentially find.
Find out whats behind all these walls,
That I’ve built up inside.
For so long.
Because I wanted to forget,
But there’s just things that I can’t hide.
So, what’s on my mind?
What’s on my heart?
That has put me in a bind.
From the start?
Let’s take a rewind.
Into what I’ve tried to keep dark.
Uh.
I’ve been struggling with my addictions.
Pop a pill just to feel satisfaction.
Drink my fill, numbing kills the depression.
Catch a feel, ****** thrills kills my imagination.
Brain is filled with nothing but wrong intentions.
One wrong move and imma either be in the grave or in an intervention.
One wrong move and imma either be in prison or get more than just a suspension.
I could be taught a million years,
And still won’t learn my lesson.
Lord knows I’ve been drowning in this deception.
But how am I supposed to heal,
When everyone else see’s me as an infection?
Can’t they see that I’m Drowning?
Drowning in this noise.
Drowning in this noise.
Tried to drown out my pain,
With things.
But it couldn’t fill the void.
I’m just Drowning in this noise!
I’m Drowning in this noise!
Feels like I’ve been sinking.
Drowning in the ocean of my mind.
No time for me to start breathing.
For I’m stressing about what I could potentially find.
Find out whats behind all these walls,
That I’ve built up inside.
For so long.
So, tell me what’s on my mind?
Tell me what’s on my heart?
As I’m drowning in this noise,
With my whole world falling apart!
Sep 11, 2019
Sep 11, 2019 at 5:01 PM UTC
Someone told me, that I have so many addictions.
Addiction to lust.
Addiction to life.
Addiction to dreams.
Addiction to music.
Addiction to arts.
Addiction to ladies.
Addiction to goals.
Addiction to money.
Addiction to alcohol.
Addiction to...
Overall, my answer to it the all..
What is life, with out this feelings
What is life without knowing,
What is life without pleasure,
What is life without her...
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 5:49 PM UTC
I
I
I
look at me, me, me
And we fail to see,
Attention is the new "drug".
And thus we believe we deserve the best while aiming for mediocrity.
The "I generation"
Defined by our need to feel special
We post, tag and snapchat to feed our addictions
But nothing ever satisfies
Just one more hit
and I’ll be done with this
Just one more like
and one more time
But we fail to realize we’re slowly dying inside
as life
Passes us by.
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 6:27 AM UTC
we always want to re-invent ourselves when we feel
rejected, unwanted, left to the side.
we dye our hair or cut our hair or style our hair
so differently, so drastically, so unrecognizable.
we pack on make-up or strip our make-up
or pierce our faces, belly buttons, get tattoos, choose a permanent mark
to remind us of something solid;
something that represents
self-sufficiency or this too shall pass,
because we know we are gonna feel
rejected, unwanted, left to the side again
(and again, and again).
we buy new clothes, give away old ones to our friends,
new shoes, new bags, new look.
and we’re always picking up new vices, new habits, new addictions.
cigarettes, alcohol, razors,
all the late night reckless binges on wine, narcotics, food, cutting ourselves.
sometimes we pick up healthy ones too,
like running, swimming, dancing, yoga, meditating, resetting sleep patterns, taking vitamins, treating ourselves to the spa, eating regularly, getting out of the house to see friends.
we either avoid intimacy at all costs because we can’t fathom
the concept of trust anymore
or we dive into it with practically anyone, just to feel something real
because we are so ******* lonely,
but we never really feel anything real at all.
we make resolutions, goals, plans for our next relationships
so that they won’t follow the same patterns as our last crumbling ones
(they usually still do).
some of us change what we like, what we want, what we need
to impress people so that they
fall in love with us and will never leave us.
we begin disregarding ourselves for another person,
or disregarding everyone else for ourselves,
both because we don’t want to get hurt again.
and then somewhere, somehow after weeks, months, maybe even years of
the full fledged wavering of
destruction meeting recovering meeting ignorance meeting shyness meeting loneliness meeting accepting meeting fear,
we start to see the intricacies of the pattern much clearer -
we make all of these sudden changes because
we just want to feel better,
we just want to be better;
that’s all.
it’s taking charge, which is healthy.
it’s also making fact and point that we need to change to deserve love,
which is unhealthy.
all of it is like learning algebra for the first time,
some of us take a bit longer to understand it all; the formulas, the variables, the balance.
and once we understand the formula, the variables and the balance,
then we can welcome back the beautiful,
real version
of ourselves we’ve been trying to
cover up.
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 5:22 PM UTC
i quake to my bones
to my very core
i shudder and crumble
ashes to ashes
dust to dust
overwhelmed,
consumed
filled to the brim
the very thought of me
Screams you
the slinking corridors hide my addictions,
afflictions,
illusions, distractions,
my convictions
the mirrors reflect nothing
i am weightless, drifting
ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 2:15 AM UTC
Even with a thousand heads and souls around me,
The thought of loneliness always resided with me
I did not intend to fit in everyone's sizes,
Nor was I proud of the bottle that shook with rage, ready to spill
My life disintegrates within a flash of a solution
I present myself and my energy to a dull audience
But the same smiles just stare speechless, gawking at me
I paraded willfully, expressing myself through art that was repulsive to many
Yet, there were a few eyes that presented a beacon, despite my addictions crumbling the floor beneath me
I reached out and touched the flames that singed my hair
Till I landed on flowers
They were not the gorgeous type,
But they were just like me:
Odd, beautiful, deterring, and tiresome.
One of them shared a joke about death,
It forced a laugh out of me, till I realized today was April Fools' Day
A skull-shaped bud cries in front of me, similar to that of a child
I take in the smell of the hole I've fallen in, though the fall was cushioned by giant red flowers
As pretty as they are, their smell is who I am
I look above and see a crucifix in the sky
Then the darkness falls in, and I accept the undeniable truth by closing my eyes.
May 12, 2022
May 12, 2022 at 3:53 AM UTC
"Girls shouldn't smoke"
I'm sorry sir, say that again?
Tell that to the 15 year old hispanic girl who sold her virtue under the guidance of the traffic lights to pay off her mother's cancer bills.
Tell that to the wife of a man who
beat
beat
beats her, because some nights she refuses to kneel at his supposed genital altar and confess her sins.
Tell that to the girl who has spent 6 months carving her home address into her forearms, hoping that her Mum would smell the rust and come and rescue her.
Tell that to the girl who was stolenshackleddruggedsold under the consent of her father who used her body as a paycheck to settle his blackjack debt.
To the lonely girl. The ugly girl. The fat girl. The anorexic girl. The bulimic girl. The girl.
"Girls shouldn't smoke."
Tell that to the women who find their prayers in the daily grace that is, nicotine.
Just like men do.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 10:30 PM UTC
Addictions are for addicts
The most common drugs will **** you
But nobody talks about the drug that keeps an emotional hold on you
Nobody wants to mention the drug that keeps a girl running back
And every time he flirts, it hurts
and sets her in a heart attack
The emotion drug that sets you free and also keeps you in chains
You try to fight it but deep down you like it
And you can't figure out why you stay
Some call it love, some call it pain, others call it life
Either way you see it, one day you'll feel it,
and it will take you on a ride
The ups and downs, the ins and outs, eventually you will feel them all
It will break your heart to pieces
Then have you running to its call
A feeling you would die for
Just to get a taste of its lust, everything about it draws you in
You won't ever get enough
You know you're hooked on him
When you think about him day and night
His eyes, his smile, his smell, his body,
You can't stop missing him by your side
His tongue will ****** your mind
While his eyes will **** your soul,
He sees right through you,
So you let him take you down this infinite hole
If you're lucky you might wake up
To it all just a dream,
but if its real, then you're in trouble
and you might fall in too deep
I'm an addict, I'll admit it
I somewhat like the pain
It reminds me that I can still feel the love of another,
that I'm not numb to everything
This man is dangerous I know he is because he's too good to be true
but I don't care, take me down,
Because I only want you.
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 7:42 PM UTC
What can I say? Another one dead and gone away.
Lost to ignorance, or
Possibly blind to addictions hooked grip.
One day your dangling a toe
Just over the edge. The next,
Your staring up wondering
How you lost your footing. I could say he’s a ****** but
Lord knows the elixirs I have invented
To dispel the dark heart of my depression.
Though I stand stoic, life has taught me
To never shame a smile. The sun rises for the living, and
Dead men fall short of tomorrow.
The amorphous soul slips through the seams
Of hands grasping to hold. So, when death discards its cloak and
Swirls its specters all around me
I’ll raise up life like a guiding lantern
And
Step through existence with my convictions.
Jun 16, 2021
Jun 16, 2021 at 12:40 PM UTC
You're thirteen, sorry fourteen this week
You think you know the world, have it figured out
You think you know yourself, without a doubt
Let me tell you some things I learned when I was about your age
I learned how to go from popular ***** to no good freak show
Nothing but an ipod every day at lunch, no friends, no food
I learned that I had addictions that I didn't know even existed
I learned how badly I wanted attention from his hands, his mouth
I learned what it like to be violated in the worse most degrading way
I learned how to get high
I learned that the intentional pain I'd always caused could be
A harnessed tool to cope by
I learned that if I stopped eating altogether no one cared
I learned what it was like to think you loved someone
I learned that I liked girls
I learned what girls could taste like, feel like -- what I could feel like
I learned that I didn't like girls
I learned what it's like to have people spread rumors about you
I learned what it's like to try to drown yourself then feel guilt
Guilt about your little brother who would have no idea why
You little ******* it wasn't long after that the violence between us started
You're big enough, strong enough to do damage on the family pet
I'm the family pet, you think you know but you don't
You've been calling me names for years
But you don't know how true they are
You think you love her -- you don't know love until you're nothing
When you're nothing and this skinny little kid everyone hates saves you
This annoying as hell kid who shows you that
The world isn't as dark as you thought it was
This kid who loves you not for *** not for bragging rights, but because
He sees this skinny little bird who lost her feathers and her wings
And is waiting to die and he thinks she could be beautiful
She thought she knew who she was before but he helped her find it
Soon you'll be fifteen
When I was fifteen I couldn't find my skinny little kid, he'd changed
Not for the worse but away from me
I fell into old habits
And new ones
Deadly ones
I changed back into the addict, not eating, not sleeping, sniffing, watching, cutting, stabbing, nothing
I covered myself in laughter, hysterical and crazy
I became quiet
I fell apart more because of guys, complete ********* guys
Like you're turning out to be
Don't think you know everything, that you're an angel
Because I was ****** up at six because of what they did
You were ****** up at four because of him
Both were accidents, but as you can see in me from six to seven
To nine to eleven
To when I was your age, all that happened was
I got ruined because of the secrets
The ones no one can know
The ones that when crossing paths with the world **** you inside
You can't see that yet
You aren't aware that you're broken
Now you're **** well old enough to
Wake Up
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 12:27 PM UTC
I have gone cold turkey
On many a vice and addictions,
Wasn't nearly there,
When it came to you,
You -a newly seeded dandelion,
In my beautiful garden,
Pulled you out cleanly,
From root to tip,
Far away from flowering,
You didn't even look pretty,
Once a part of a beauty,
Swayed fuzzy and whispy,
Got kicked and treaded over,
Scattered fragments,
Waiting to seed again,
Pretty on the outside,
Trouble for the gardener,
Didn't even use my rage,
Just calmly uprooted you,
So you wouldn't flower,
Won't scatter anymore,
Spread like a **** again,
But who knows,
Weeds are resilient,
Maybe you'll flower,
In someone else's garden,
Blossom and bloom,
Just to be kicked again,
Always loved a dandelion,
Pretty in the hands,
Prettier when scattered,
So I won't hold you again.
Jan 30, 2023
Jan 30, 2023 at 12:59 PM UTC
You've said and I'd have to agree
I'm
selfish,
*Because
I refuse to let you do anything to me,*
Selfish ......
*Why because
I refuse to spread wide & let you
**** me then leave?
You've expressed to others
how*
Selfish
*I can be,
because
I wont give in to your deceit,
I refuse
to allow you any sympathy
when it comes to
your fuckery
your an
infectiousness diseases...*
Selfish
*cause I wont be
subdued with all
the lies and ways
you mistreat me,
all the game playing,
trying to scheme
fake me out,
while you try to
make me lay out
my cards,
ya stupid cheat,
Selfish
because I've told you*
I Wasn't Ready
*I'm calling your bluff,
Your not so tough,
Ya sort of funny papi
Your always trying to knock me,
wishing to cause havoc and bring me down again.*
Selfish
*huh
really?
I'm so*
Selfish
*because I'll put my children
all of them before you,
I've placed my walls back up
wont allow you to climb em
I've changed my mind
more than once it's cause
of something you've done...*
*You've got me rethinking
being up on this pedal-stool
&
I'd rather you stop shaking it
so
I can get down
but you'd rather see me fall.
It's*
Selfish
*of me- right
cause
I'd rather not have to fight,
I don't like being put down,
Specially ya
small jabs
about my mental
the many excuses
you've come to make
time and time again
You've dismissed
my past and all
the bad that's trapped me,
You make fun of me
for having PTSD
& D.I.D.
You've said and I'd have to agree
I'm*
Selfish
*cause I don't want to do this,
I don't need another man's
to abuse,
or for you to
use and beat me
I'd rather be*
selfish
*then to take care of another drunk
or man with any type of addiction,
even if you're addictions me.
I'll be*
selfish
*While
I guard all that's dear to me
You've already
deliberately
tried to cause me so much pain
dressed it up and called it love
but I wasn't fool to your game.*
Selfish
*huh?
Is it because,
I didn't let you in
well not as much
as you'd like me to,
Naw papi
it's because
You
can't just pop into my life
then try to take it over.*
**SORRY MOTHER ******
*You can't mistreatment
and abuse me
than bring me flowers
cards or candy,
You can't rock my body
then dismissively
treat me like
I'm worthless....
But it's me
whose so *******
Selfish.
*I've said it long ago
Oh how he thinks
I'm*
"His Type"
*Well that's not true
because
baby you've made it
so **** clear
that
I'm nothing.
Besides
a *****
a **** & a ****
A *****
even though
You've apologized
each and every time
those
words left your lips,
not right away
but you've done it
&
I refuse to forgive you
over and over
each time you've
repeated ya crimes...*
*No way could
I allow you back
because
you showed you'd
do it
again and again,
and if
BIG ******* IF,
if I allowed it
which I wont-
not anymore and never again
its because
you've said it
right
and
if you cant
remember
well baby
I'll help you
out
its
because
I'm*
SELFISH!
*Always Me Ayeshah ™ ®
K.A.C.L.N ©
All right reserved ®
Copyright 1977 - Present*
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 10:20 AM UTC