my mind is a mess, shams, and I know
that sometimes one needs to
not be in one's mind.
I blame many things, many things,
this rage welling, this spleen expanding,
this bile, this angry saliva.
everyone fails me again,
always again.
friends are too busy with their own
little children, their own little
preoccupations.
friends are too addicted to
their own addictions.
and friends just forget me.
either that, or they avoid me.
paranoia being a symptom of the
delusions, an inability to
just see a sting as a passing irritation,
and instead having a full blown
allergic meltdown.
i hate everyone.
my cat is perfect.
This is a blog of some poetry I wrote at different times. Mostly it's about my broken heart.
Friday, November 12, 2010
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