Tuesday, April 15, 2008

vomit.

i cannot write a thing today
nor can i read my words
i cannot hear you yelling still
i care not to be heard

i do not wish to make a point
i'm angry at my mind
so i'll take away what i love most
as a punishment of kind.

i crave for a perfection
i refuse to accept less
i'm an awful poet.
i never will be best.

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