I Don't Have Any Kids.

The rain falls down, and freezes on the road.
I'll take you out for a drive

With any luck we'll crash.

I'll tear you apart
Piece by metaphorical piece
I deserve this enraged repentance
I wish you could see my insides now
After your dirty fingers have been playing with my Heartstrings
You've destroyed my moral compass
And I lay, distraught, curled up on the floor

I only wish the silence would stop,
So I can't hear myself, my lies
Behind me lies the corpses of my failed attempts
My return ticket's ripped up
Like your pictures of me.

Everything, every little memory

With a thousand words perched upon the tip of my tongue 
It's not everyday I get to scream
This winter constricts my throat
I want to know why this isn't even.
I want to know why you aren't as dead as I am

When keeping it real goes wrong
I think I'll just keep you alive

This is where it all went wrong.
Don't you remember the starting line?
It's where you told me that you loved me,
It's where I dug my grave .

I'll never hold your hand
I'd rather be dead, than in your arms, my dear. 

But don't forget, I am a gentleman.
I've lived with you for so long but
Don't expect to live much longer.

The End

2 comments about this poem Feed