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Holiest of Holy's
I'm tired of talking
To people who have holes in them
And when I see what's missing
I make it a point to dodge it
Because I don't have the patience
To fix it,
My voice feels empty
And my feet weary
Pounding streets till they bleed
And the people are holy entities
Devoid of courtesy
When they stare laser gazes
At my face unphased,
My tongue whips my teeth
And jaws into forming Incomplete thought
But by the time I'm done talking
You've already bought the bullshit
Because we're empty you see
And we want to believe in something
Besides the news reports
That autism consorts with terrorism
Or my store bought food
Is slowly choking my insides,
So believe what you want
Because another spoon full
Isn't as dangerous as a
Closed minded attitude
And a face without memory
Is a stranger seeing through your holiest of Holy's
Disapproving at the person you are
But I'm here to say that I love you,
Your destruction is unique
And all the mistakes are
What made you
So when you're alone at night
And you think the world is killing you
Just know that I love the mess you made
because it just might save you,
To be honest I'm awful too
And screw up more
Than a vertical prostitute,
I have scars I get lost in
But in those holes Im found
Really good
Really good
Thanks
I really appreciate it.
"Where do you go when nowhere feels like home?"-FBMF
Hey Tennessee
A fine piece of artwork here. I concur and feel the same way about people with holes in them, including me - yeah I mess up far too many times - gotta go. Time to screw up something or someone somewhere :D nice poem, I am Wholly Hole(y) but repairable. ~Stella
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