Crying out in all my valiant efforts at something better, only to find that the latter is so much worse.
Immerse me in my hopes and your misgivings, and tell me this is the best I can do.
Spill all of my intentions and pride on something counter-productive and play me for a fool.
Immerse me in your petty tragedies and every truthful lie that goes with them, only to be disappointed by my indifferent response.
What the fuck are you here for?
Crying out in all my steadfast efforts at something of substantial purpose, only to be graced by the presence of everything that ever disgusted me.
Immerse me in the deepest of clarities, every gray area and tell me there’s nothing left.
Spill all of the contents of my heart and laugh in my face, so incredibly absorbed in your twisted labyrinth of self-righteousness.
Who the fuck do you think you are?
Crying out in all my valiant and steadfast attempts, pleading for some kind of rhyme or reason, I realize that you’re just as low as I am.
Resting beneath the surface, masked by your unassuming exterior, there is a hurt so strong, one that is so well contained, only to be seen a flicker at a time.
Were we all made to suffer, and if so, for how long?
© Copyright December 2012/November 2017/January 2018/March 2018