I'm your little piece of fun
Your joy-ride on the icy backroads
The sugar in your cyanide

it sickens me.
Truthfully.

And you can't feel the emptiness of your own
feeble wantings. You can't
even know the feeling
you childish self-centred...

<>


You're right, you do
pervade me.
Are you happy?
Have I made your day?


Your sun went rose, up in the east
and shone down like little teasing kisses
pink and joyful
letting the world know it was there
and illuminating every step you could've taken-

You slept right through it.
Idiot.


But maybe that's not fair.
Maybe it's only in dreams that you live.
Only in lucid woven images
of everything you wish you had
everything you couldn't keep,
and everything,
I mean everything you
chucked in the wake of your
fanciful,
ill derived
fleeting-to-the-point-of-utter-inexistence

.dream.land.



In that case
I'll cry '15 year old girl with a sense of loss'
tears
Think, "Well, cheer up, you're useful."
and pray to someone's god you won't forget me.

10/04/2003

Author's Note: *breatheandsigh* today's not entirely a good day.

How thick was statement? I disgust myself sometimes.

Posted on 10/05/2003
Copyright © 2024 Trisha De Gracia