I am aware but I
discard the fact
that I know so well
how I should react
I sold my personal possessions
To pay your unmanageable debts
Paying for your lively past
And your sodden regrets
I pawned my dignity
To salvage yours
I stayed home while you out drunk
With a list of your undone chores
The washing machine is mine, since you
Caught your finger in that red button
Knees collapsing no matter what
For you always wet glutton
I washed your plates
To keep your hands dry
I didnt ask painful questions
Carried on wondering why
With an evening came the back rubs
And touching of your toes
While away staying at the end of the
Phone with your monotonous woes
I for you I was beautiful with treatments
And underwear as you desire
By night doing anything you want
and endlessly require
Let you beat my body
Black and blue
I stay only when you spit
I love you
I know Ive had enough
And that its time to run
Youve already destroyed another
I wont be another one
Now fuck off, dont ask
Of me another thing;
But then if you need me,
Ill give you everything.













Comments
--
I am Jack's inflamed sense of rejection.
We are the all-seeing all-dancing crap of the world
--
Laughin' in a windstorm
Blowin' all the cornstalks down
Cryin' in a funeralhome
Pullin' out nails
Six feet underground
--
Dum spiro spero.
Question: Is this "my" style?
Because after we talked about it, albeit a while after, I wrote this. And I don't normally rhyme, of my own accord, but I didn't have an book influence in front of me so.. Does that mean it's my own? Can you tell?
Thanks again
--
Dum spiro spero.
*I wrote and erased three lines four times and it was still an understatement
Sounds to me like lyrics of a song and yet... I'm not used to see such things from you, it's somehow different but i like it. I like this new touch you add, it fascinates me to no end
--
Una canzone può anche non parlar d'amore...
"A song can also not talk about love..."
Also it's definitely from you're own pen(your writing style), if that makes sense!
--
I am Jack's inflamed sense of rejection.
We are the all-seeing all-dancing crap of the world
--
Laughin' in a windstorm
Blowin' all the cornstalks down
Cryin' in a funeralhome
Pullin' out nails
Six feet underground
someone else has just said something much the same, I be investigating
My own pen!
Thanks
--
Dum spiro spero.
Lol, ok
No Problem!!
--
I am Jack's inflamed sense of rejection.
We are the all-seeing all-dancing crap of the world
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