A few days from now... They say depression is going to kick in but she doesn't care. She's too worried about the other shit that parades itself around the world. How much time do you have to devote to life to be good at what you do and what you are? When will it all just not matter anymore and get back to the basics that she knew about just a few short years ago? The question stands as it has stood through the generations. Everything expanding, moving, changing, but not like this. Not Like this. A few hours from now... She still seems to keep up what she had going for her and it doesn't seem like she will give up soon. Shes got the ballons of heroin, diapers of acid, grocery bags of reefer, a head full of ideas, and a lot of fuckin time to not worry about anything. She is in fact living my dream and it turns out to be my greatest nightmare. She herself is a walking, talking, fine ass cliche. Crying and laughing. Bathing and wallowing. Chewing and spitting. Thinking and acting. Not giving two shits about herself and the mind that she let go. She never forgave me for walking away and I never forgave myself for doing what I did even though it all became natural once I did over and over again. On the other hand, she pissed everything away and was shattered from head to toe from crust to core from skin to blood. A few minutes from now... It has come to my attention that I don't fucking care about nonsense and I will keep telling myself I won't because there is no pride in taking part in some shit that doesn't matter. I wish she could feel the same way and forget all this stuff that put her in this place and get back to the days of robbing the blind, stuffing the bra, and shining shoes for a living, be a loser like every other fuck in this world. A few seconds from now... I'm seeing what she sees and feeling what she feels and I cant take it anymore. Goodbye. Fuck off.
who are you talking about, your girlfriend?? Are you depressed or she is?? i feel really depressed right now
Wow this is painful, raw, angry, and honest. Good mix for a therapeutic poem. I read Dear Emma before reading this and I see those pieces going hand in hand. (I almost didn't read this because of the title...I expected something juvenile, proved me wrong!)
