Best

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Poetry.

Submitted: December 23, 2019

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 23, 2019

A A A

A A A


I know you’re hoping to get to me

by spreading all these lies and things,
but boy you should know by now
I don’t let that shit get to me.
So keep talking your talk
and wasting all that air,
the trees will be happy
to suck in your despair.
Free carbon dioxide
from someone who can’t seem to stop
day in and day out
running his mouth.
Boy save your breath,
‘cause there ain’t nothin left;
to me you’re not even human —
I don’t know who you’ve tried fooling,
but Steven King ain’t got nothin on me.
I’m my own person, you see:
origin flawless.
I hope my words make you nauseous.
Look at the person you’ve become;
unrecognizable to some —
hell, most,
because everything you’ve feared
is already here.
And nothing was “dedicated” to you,
so please get your words straight, fam.
Borrow a dictionary from somebody
before you make a fool of yourself, again. 
 
A user,
and confuser —
god, what a loser.
But at least you finished, right?
That’s more than we can say for me.
Right around twenty times
out of 455 tries...
Suppose I’m a good faker,
but I didn’t want that
coital anxiety to break ya;
turns out it’s nonexistent,
and your diagnosis is a porn addiction.
Therapy is so enlightening
and my memories of you are frightening;
but one day you’ll no longer be,
and I take solace in that,
you see.
I get to write until I’m healed;
that first amendment is a blessing.
Time to snuggle your immaturity,
because I’m not leaving.
 
Best,
LostSisterGrimm
 

 


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