Judge me Harshly please. Thanks smile


Empathy and The Endless

I never really thought I?d live that long.
I figured old age wasn?t penned in Destiny?s epic.
Something would gently drive me from this mortal coil.
And in a hazy Technicolor Dream
I saw the hand of that something
Gently driving me down
And I began to fall.

In the cusp Delirium I peered up again
I could never quite discern whether it was myself
Or Death
With her long black hair and charming smile,
Who stood there, surveying my plummet.
I hoped it was I
Perched up there watching,
Anticipating my eventual Destruction.

As I descended
I acknowledged the lost opportunity
But I wished I could?ve asked him why he pushed.
If there was any specific incident
Or event which inspired
The Desire to gently nudge me.

But the time to inquire had slipped away
And I fell further still
Wondering if people edited they?re suicide notes.
Pondering how many drafts it took to get them right.

I had been up pretty high
For I felt the clouds of Despair brush
Leaving wet residue over my skin
Chilled by the upward rushing air.

I listened to my shirt rustle in the wind
And made a note not to be so gaunt in the next life.
My clothes shouldn?t be this loose.
It?s abnormal.


Acrastinations and Propoligies

To all the whisperings of benevolent muses
Who took back they?re insipid suggestions
And they?re innovational works of artistic splendor
Once they had seen that I neglected to pen them in a notebook.

For all the spaces between the lines of notebook paper
Who begged, beseeched, and pleaded with me
?Bestow on us,
Your creatively subjective scratchings
And splotches of soft No. 2 lead?

For each and every movie,
And novel,
And play,
Short story,
Character,
Synopsis,
And vision
That will ever remain sentient
In the nooks and crannies of gray matter.

Beating on that soft mushy paste
Pulped and dulled by the radioactive frequencies of a television screen
The sweet chronic serenity
Inducido por las nubes novices gruesas de la calina del cannabis ,
Begging to get out
Onto the safe confines of a warm radiant computer screen.

But no,
They?re all back there frowning
With their pouts tightly worn
And their arms securely and stubbornly crossed over their skinny chests
(For they surely resemble myself don?t they?).
And now I have no choice
But to look for some place other than they?re squinted scowls
While I dedicate this inadequate mess of themes, subjects, and characters,
They?re half, whole, and step
Brothers and sisters,
Who certainly aren?t as clever as they,
Well, I dedicate it to them.

The apology is tart and lingering on my tongue
?Maybe next time.? I say
And they roll they?re eyes.



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"If you really loved me, you'd Kill yourselves today!"--Transmetropolitan