we're all swallowing a big pill that our throats can't take.
we're all sitting down on our asses waiting for the meteor to hit
because just maybe one day we'll be able to feel pain just like we did that year.
with the snare in our ear, and the salt in our mouths, in the crevices of our teeth
plastered with tooth enamel like bad dry wall in a cheap apartment, we take no time to get water to swallow the big pill.
we're forced.
I AM FORCED.
I want to sit here and feel the pain of what he did.
but there's no possible way.
no possible way he'll ever feel my wrenching pain in my heart I get every single time I see her.
That devil, that thing you call a human.
I'm always sitting and waiting for something to happen.
But when am I going to get that it will NEVER happen to me.
Nothing positive, always negative.
Just put yourself in my shoes, and wait on that lonely, brown, bench by yourself with complete silence and remorse.
Regretful, I am.
Forgetful, I was.
Un-loved, I remain.
But touched, I forever will be.
the last sentence was a little harsh
ReplyDeletebut was this thing like written in class while you were death glaring someone?
Because the almost apocalyptic world you're talking about sounds less harsh than the pain in the last few paragraphs
cool poem.
ReplyDeleteok, yoda.
ReplyDeletelawlz