PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I write my soul to you
pow pow pow
on my typewriter
bullets flowing through
your sticky little mind

WHY.
WON'T.
YOU.
LET. 
ME.
GO????

I hide in my shower
in the corner of the
blood splattered tiles.

You say words.
Words that just sound
like baby shit
running down my leg.

Words mean nothing
absolutely nothing
nada
zilch
nothing to you.

My tears flow flawlessly
down my cheeks so violently
and I'm fuckin lonely.

And this poem is shit.
Just getting you out
is like a drug addict
finally getting clean.

Or like an author pounding
the keys of life never
ending and it's been
oh so fucking long
since I emerged on the scene.

I was dirty
I am obscene
I am unclean.

I don't belong here
I don't belong there
I don't belong anywhere.

I could live under a bridge
I could live on a ridge
I could live anywhere
and still you won't care.

Thanks Dr. Seuss.
You made my fucking life
worth while while
Kicking me in the teeth.