I like when people realize I’m crazy,

and they cry “I never signed up for this!”

As though I ever did?

But let’s make this all about you

while inside, my madness swirls

and your loud complaints are painting

oily black smears across my soul.

And you can’t just love me anyway?

Follow me a little, get lost inside with me?

We could cuddle and make it a day,

get high and kiss until our lips are bruised?

Turn this oily mess into something soft and blue?

Turn this madness into loving you?

It could be so easy to tape me up and make me whole,

But you fight this wonderful madness

slash and scratch and make me bleed

and I’m spilled across the floor

where you slip and fall.

I’m truly sorry, this is all my fault

I’ve ruined it all.

No soft touches nor any breaths that I may take

into my lungs and hold a piece of you.





Author: doing2016

I started writing when I was very young. Then I was mortified on a bus full of people when one of my stories was read aloud. I lost my focus and quit. Now, I'm trying to find my voice and my ambition. I love to write, good or bad. So, I'm doing it here and now. Thank you.

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