*****
I’m fresh out of metaphor;
Eat my shit. Just let me be.
There’s nothing left and
It seems as if there never was.
Damn. Goddamn it all.
I’ll sin my heart out;
I’m in hell already.
A bullet to the brain
Can only bring me back.
What options do I have?
Listen to the endless drone of platitudes
Or drown myself in alcohol?
Fuck my heart and
Fuck my soul; already raped,
Torn, discarded, left to die.
I need a minute, month or decade,
Can’t be sure. Time will only scar;
A poor excuse for healing; yet all
That I look forward to.
Awesome. Some lines had me nodding, like, "Yeah...I get that."
ReplyDeleteMuy triste la entrada, pesimista, pero me gusta
ReplyDeleteun beso
Oh my! oh my! I agree that you can write out your feelings. I was just about to say how I did this about a month ago, wrote a sort of (lousy) story fragment about love, but it wasn't this raw...by any means.
ReplyDeleteI hope it made you feel better!
Jack: We're birds of a feather, my friend.
ReplyDeletePitufina: It's hard to find optimism sometimes.
Berlinerin: Ooo you should post this fragment on your blog :)
oh, this just hurts my heart. such raw, painful words. but i've felt like this also, too many times to count and it's good to get it out onto paper which, for me, somehow lessens the pain. ups and downs are part of this roller coaster we call life.
ReplyDeletelove & hugs,
marion
"Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn." ~Thomas Gray
Thanks, Marion :) You always have the right words.
ReplyDelete