Drugged
I’m not good at anything,
Strike that… reverse that…
I’m good at not being good at anything,
Pieces of glass that serrate my flesh,
And pour out emotion,
Abandoning the heart, and replacing it with…
Dick Tracy was a strange comic character,
But I apologizing, I’m easily distracted… they call that ADD
Or whatever they call it to prescribe you a medication…
This is a conversation I choose to have with you.
Now listen,
I’m a bit slow, realizing I had someone who loved me
When she walked away.
When I thought being gothic meant wearing all black,
And liking “Nightmare before Christmas”.
Then again I was never popular…
I was living the American Dream…
Living alone, independent, drowning in sorrow,
Unable to connect to everyone, and anyone,
I was unique…How mundane my life is…
Hey now, stay still, you’re spinning
Let me confess this to you…
I hate you, and love you though…
Or was that,
I hate what I love, and I love what I hate…
Too many “I” in that sentence right?
I’m sorry was I supposed to pass this to you…
Or the one behind you?
C.J. Rivera |