He would pound the wall,
But it would be pointless,
He’s given it his very all,
But it still stays a mess,
His body shakes with each sob,
As he fumes at his own weakness,
His emotions a murderous rioting mob,
Angry and lusting with a bloodthirst,
Betrayal at its very best,
That’s all he could think of,
All the hints, he should’ve guessed,
But one can be blinded so much by love,
The pain is indescribable,
Flooding and suffocating,
The anger unquenchable,
Yet painfully misleading,
He hides it underneath a smile,
With a joke or two around,
It’ll fool most for a very long while,
At least until he’s managed a rebound.
Author's Note: i've not made any post for some time. at first i was just lacking of inspiration and was caught up with some things i was doing, after that my PC died so yeah. forgive me if this poem sounds like another corny emo poem of mine, because it is. i'm just emoing over having a cheating and conscience-less son of a gun for a father.
----------------
Now playing on iTunes: No Use For A Name - It Won't Happen Again
via FoxyTunes
stoned @ 1:48 AM
______________________________
Listen...
Drip,
From my slit wrist,
My life.
Drip,
From my sad eyes,
My dreams.
Flow,
Gone; my life.
Shattered; my dreams.
-
Kai Teoh, Seasons of September