i call it... "the emo poem of emoness."
it is not directed at anyone in general, [actually, it IS directed at someone, but they don't exist and you don't know who they are. Har har, how typical of me.] but I am still mad at you. everyyyyyy single last one of you.
[yes I am still being my little finniky antisocial self, so screw you and leave me alone.]
and enjoy!
That's all you ever do now
Sit and stare
With your vexing eyes
They couldn't distract me anymore
You used to do other things
This wasn't always your best game
I don't know how they got like this
Is this your fault or mine?
Your words intoxicated me
didn't matter how disgraceful or hypnotic
The luscious, alluring kisses guranteed
oscilation to a manic scream
This little eternal statue game
Who did this?
We once strolled together, hand in hand
consequentialy blending to the zenith of psychosis
Once, I captured
the most brilliant aurora borealis
all in those two shocking eyes
But why?
You glazed them over
You're a total deformity
The living disorder
Who lives off the imbalance
Why did you do this to me?
yourself?
Why did you do this to our mind?
You're still alive
I'll still love you anyway
But how?
How could you love yourself?
how could you love an imperfection?
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