My writing is poetry

No, I mean my writing is therapy

It helps these burdens of people asking and placing things on my back

Have the bottoms cut out and plummet to the floor

The stone, tile floor

The cognition disruptor

The manipulator

 

I have the weight in my chest like a stone

People are fucking disgusting

Myself included

Well maybe not me

And maybe not those people that are peaceful in themselves

That smile and say whatever when time calls for it

But the frontal, constant rebuttal

Old farts and young shits

And stupid heads

Dumb asses

Blasted bastards

And battered bazzies

With loaded mazzies

Emptying clips

Bullets make hits

Zip, zit

Oh shit

I’ve officially lost it

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s