deterioration.

[iLoveYouWithaKnife]

I want to stand in the middle
of the fucking steet.
And just scream.
As loud as I can.
But where will that get me?
Less of a voice,
to make my point.
That no one seems to hear anyway.

I want to kick and punch
holes in the fucking walls.
Smash all of my stuff.
Everything.
But where will that get me?
Black and blue fists that
need time to heal,
like the rest of me.
And with fewer stuff
I already have.

I want to stand
face to fucking face with you.
Telling you how I think
it's all your fault.
How much of a fuck-up you are?
But where will that get me?
Wanting to go back,
screaming and punching walls
for picking out your flaws,
you already know exsist.
I'd feel like shit.
I'll apologize now.
For the thought.

I want to come home
ONE fucking night from work.
Not packing my bowl,
as I hit my second beer
ten minutes in the door.
But where will that get me?
Screaming out my fucking guts,
Smashing walls and breaking fists,
Over things so so fucking stupid.
So instead,
I'll just fuck up my lungs and liver.

At least they are the
fucking things that people can't see.
Let them rot inside of me.
As long as I have a
little danty voice
and girly hands,
a cute smile and a
perfect stance...
It just might be enough
to get me by
until I get home
and want to cry
and kick things
and break stuff.

 

[E-girl]

wow... a lot of anger.
i've in the wanting-to-punch-walls state tonight too, spending my only day off this week working, coincidentally, on another project. it never ends *sigh*. and right about now having spent all day coding and not having gotten any further than when i started, i'm ready to scream! i'm waiting for my boy to get home so he can spin some tunes and calm me down.

this glass of wine isnt helping things either.