(a convoluted fucking poem that doesn't rhyme in the same way all the time and follows no fucking format, just tells that I am having a BAD FUCKING DAY and feeling very alone and friendless right now, and if you don't like it, fuck off. I don't need anyone's condescending attitude. I'm crazy, not stupid, and condescension does not sit well with me. So if you don't have something kind or helpful to say, don't say anything at all. And don't even talk to me about meds. Most of them make me very, very sick. I can't take them. Poetry that HONESTLY tells how I'm feeling is one of the ways I cope. So if you're only going to tell me I "need help..." Bitch, I already know that and am getting the help I can! This is one of the things that helps me. If you can relate, cool. If you can sympathize, cool. If all you're going to do is tell me how "sick" I am, then piss off and die. This is it, this is real, this happens sometimes. Roll with it or go visit some fucking celebrity fan page and leave me alone. That being said, here it is. And it's worth every penny you paid for it!)
The bleak has set in
And I'm back to black
Feeling the gloom closing me in its trap
I want to take a gun
To my head, to my heart
To just end all this shit
To tear this misery apart
I won't I suppose
Though it would feel good in a way
To have revenge on the gloom
That ties me up in this way
I'm sick of the people
Telling me how to feel
I'm sick of hiding my emotions
And not saying what's real
I'm not always like this
But some of the time
I'm trapped in the darkness
Though the sun shines outside
And there are some people
Whose lives are that way
Abused and confused
In a prison each day
And who is anyone to tell them that they should just be happy
That the darkness isn't real
That their feelings are wrong
Who is anyone to judge
The anguish within
Those who give up the fight
Feeling there's no way to win
I guess I'm still fighting
For what the fuck it is worth
But at the same time I'm cursing
The day of my birth
"Quit complaining," I'm told
"Or take some kind of drug"
The drugs make me more crazy
I'd rather just take a slug
Give me a bullet
Give me a gun
Give me a black day alone
And I'll make it done
Lily
The Frustrated, Pissed off and Crazy Bitch From Hell
3 comments:
I can relate.
Not sure if the first comment went through, Blogger seems to be having some problems. Anyway. I can relate.
I hope this gives you a small, dark lift:
Resumé
Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.
-- Dorothy Parker
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