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Description
Such a pointless loss.
A
  boiling
           anger.
Stemming from distrust-
of self, where self is missing.
Follow me?
Fuck the senseless bitch-
she wont know what hit her.
Take from her,
what she will give.
A
  perfect
           lie.
Even your own words-
drown in your quiet promises.
It is the self destructive you that I find here.
I carry a future-
If you’re the screw up,
where does this come from.
Rhetorical of course.
You understand correct?
I stand corrected.
You aren't meant to.
You wont.
A
  simple
           touch
A complicated message.
Convincing myself this hurt is real,
simply because I convinced myself you are.
She believes you, you know?
I believed you.
I should have told her,
what you have taught me.
A
  challenging
                 meeting.
One I'm glad I had.
Face to face with the root of my pain,
I find it oddly agreeable.
Masochistic I know.
Pleasure from this mental farce.
But you play your cards so well!
We all fall down-
under this spell.
Prey to "the word we do not speak of".
A
  passion
            interrupted.
And so much more,
more than this physical offering-
offering more than I know I can give-
give willingly at least-
at least there's the biting memory-
memory of a poor, sick boy.
If only I had thought to save you.
A
  solid
        wall.
I can thank you for your inequities.
The sexual gratuities than not so blatantly plague my bombastic means of self-expression.
You protect me.
Your hollow promises left me building.

Don't forget to tip the waiter.

Description
Such a pointless loss.
A
  boiling
           anger.
Stemming from distrust-
of self, where self is missing.
Follow me?
Fuck the senseless bitch-
she wont know what hit her.
Take from her,
what she will give.
A
  perfect
           lie.
Even your own words-
drown in your quiet promises.
It is the self destructive you that I find here.
I carry a future-
If you’re the screw up,
where does this come from.
Rhetorical of course.
You understand correct?
I stand corrected.
You aren't meant to.
You wont.
A
  simple
           touch
A complicated message.
Convincing myself this hurt is real,
simply because I convinced myself you are.
She believes you, you know?
I believed you.
I should have told her,
what you have taught me.
A
  challenging
                 meeting.
One I'm glad I had.
Face to face with the root of my pain,
I find it oddly agreeable.
Masochistic I know.
Pleasure from this mental farce.
But you play your cards so well!
We all fall down-
under this spell.
Prey to "the word we do not speak of".
A
  passion
            interrupted.
And so much more,
more than this physical offering-
offering more than I know I can give-
give willingly at least-
at least there's the biting memory-
memory of a poor, sick boy.
If only I had thought to save you.
A
  solid
        wall.
I can thank you for your inequities.
The sexual gratuities than not so blatantly plague my bombastic means of self-expression.
You protect me.
Your hollow promises left me building.

Don't forget to tip the waiter.