"fuckall" poems
I tagged along with you today
trying to be useful
helpful
to be there for you
nurse you..comfort you..clean your wounds
go with to the doctor
help to call your work..make us black tea
help you take a pee..bring a hot bottle
and painkillers to ease your pain
lift you on the pillows..straighten your bedclothes
try make you comfy
try to arrange a van
then you shut me up
when I try to speak
just to make a suggestion
of help
why, I don't know
then you mention that
if we had break
from each other
who would you have turned to
in your hour of need
this is all I am to you
now you push me into a corner
tease with a cruel joke
all at my expense
I ask you: don't repeat
and yet you taunt
that you will not be shut up
and you repeat the cruel joke
knowing how hard it is
for me
you know something?
when I nursed your wounds this morning
I took care not to hurt you
let it sting too much
despite the medic's words
of aggressive treatment
you did not take that same care
just now
you touch an old wound
you know it hurts
and yet
you persist in taunting
and pulling off an ugly effort
thanks so much
for fuckall!
:(
YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT A SHOCK I ALSO GOT!!!!!!
**** you for hurtin me so
your deliberate taunts hurt
more than you know
and who is still here?
me.
Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 10:00 AM UTC
the moon had flesh, but i tore it away
(exposure exposure)
curiosity got the best of me i wanted to know
if what i was dreaming about truly was something remarkable
(i was wrong)
the moon was a vessel full of nothingness
a reflection of my heart,
a destination of my soul
learning desolation and craving the form of a black hole,
my entire presence on this fuckall called earth is no longer
tangible
i am nothing
we are all,
nothing
flesh and sadness walking this earth with a purpose that no one's truly been able to find
none of us are anything
except for temporary shreds of sanity
that rot after a little while
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 1:11 AM UTC
Every day that we don't speak
brings me closer to knife-shiny clarity...
the kind of voice in my head
that motivational speakers
tell you not to listen to!
i've messaged you (x 4)
and you've left me fuckall.
You've left me, **** off.
I need money, I need money, I need love. I
need something more than
Euros transferred into dollars, I need
compassion and some sense of stability
and a trust that only comes from a
voicemail waiting for me as I wake up.
i know the time difference is ... a difference,
and there's been a whole lot of time
I've had for my thoughts to fill me up
like a black water bathtub.
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 3:58 PM UTC