When all is said and done,
You won’t know,
But I’ll be gone.
Space is so spacious and I graciously accept these emotional pills that give me thrills and chills as I sink into…
Anonymous complaints, on websites because I can’t repair the doll pushed into her shell of porcelain.
You’re a vain and vile…
There are words inside my head that I confess fed this hate inside of me as I cry so violently and push you angrily into the depths of the ocean as I quell the commotion of the swells coursing through my body.
The blood in my veins feigns disdain for my father who would rather be a stripper but not to gather money to fly to see me try to accomplish what I almost died to achieve.
I wanted to cry at least three times a week for four years as the roses attempted their persuasion of my survival and the plum blossoms of China dug their roots deeper into my ribs.
I bashed my head against the wall over thirty times as I thought of my despair and came prepared to dive into the wintry hells so that church bells could toll. Never mind my lack of belief in organized religious institutions that I called the commandments of your mother the commandant who decided that she would remain adamant about you having anyone but her in your life.
My father, my former lover, your existences bothers my perplexed soul and I gather that I’d rather move farther from the shores of your chatter creating clutter on my feeds.
I deem to be complete, replete with water that will deplete your reserve and wear down the canyons of your soul while my laughter resonates driving you insane like you just did me.