______________________________
BODIES IN THE BACKYARD
Rationing understanding.
Acceptance moisturizes
Parched skin, burnt
From heated jealousy
Years searing in avoidance.
Your code is
Fucking
Bullshit.
Hard work is essential,
But your ignorance is
Fucking
Rank.
Who the
Fuck
Are you?
You are my desert,
Throat dry and eyes full of grit.
You are why
I can never seem to get one
Fucking
Clear look at myself.
Running commentary
On worlds unknown
To yourself.
Fear motivates the manic,
And when it hits the fan
You lose your
Fucking
Marbles.
I will not be like you.
You are wrong.
You will not change.
You are closed minded.
How the
Fuck
Will I love you?
___________________________
Sunday, March 14, 2010
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