Know It Alls And Missed Calls

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

Submitted: July 19, 2010

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 19, 2010



As the meds wear off,
and the heart beats faster.
Every word you say is another stab.
I don’t know you anymore.
I don’t think you know me.
If you knew everything,
you still wouldn’t know a thing.

False hopes lead to bad dreams.
Get out of my head,
Get out of my head,
Get out of my fucking head.
What will it take to get you listen?,
to get you to hear me out,
to get you to call?

Oh, now I know it’s over
and we’ll never survive this,
I’ll never survive this.
Masking the pain with warm whiskey and tiny tablets
to help me never dream about you again.
Those dreams that wake me up at night,
those dreams that kill me inside.

I feel stuck, I feel worthless, I feel hated by you.
After everything I’ve done, everything I will do,
I still can’t get to that hidden part of you.
There’s something there, something I don’t know,
something I’m beginning to hate.
Only fate could get us out of this one.
Fate and a miracle from a non-existant God.

This paper is my only friend, all I have left
and this pen is my all-telling heart.
As the ink runs out, I run out.
No more outlets, no more venting.
I can’t survive this, I can’t survive this.
I’m so sorry for feeling sorry.
I’m so sorry.

© Copyright 2018 Eli Whitney. All rights reserved.

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