Personal Problems: 7th Account


Last time I spoke to
All the people that don’t love me,
And critics,
and works of art,
And I scratched my head asking,
“What have I done now?”

I type the keys as though I were playing the piano
and these words test me on the page,
I don’t really blame you or anybody for trying to heal me,
I’m standing on the horizon and I’m seeing angels now.

Its a letter to my boyfriend.
Shall we open it?

Dear lover, tell me something so innately personal
That your tears scream out of your tear ducts,
And you’re no longer alive.

I’m passing the book on,
here’s hoping they study me one day.
I’m not sure whether you’re going to tell me what it is you’re feeling
But I hope everybody outside of the people I love,
Are out there burning.
So whilst I tell you what’s wrong,
You’ve got to repay me in some way,
Whilst you think,
I’ll tell you another of mine.

I am wasting my life on studies.
Pursuing poetry, defenceless against the sunset,
I’m drowning in near-paradise,
But my soul’s never felt so let down before,
Was this meant to be it?
And you’re somewhere other than here
Does it do well to test the strength of a relationship
By putting acre after acre after acre of grass and sheep and arm and leg
Between us,

I’m hardly learning how to breathe
But there’s a whole sea in my stomach
and the waves are choppy,
My heart’s little boat can nearly stay afloat,
But whatever,
I’m the one telling you which one would you do,
Savannah Stern or Alexis Texas,
And don’t call me mainstream for eying up the success
of the “best women out there” using sex to get ahead…

Some people out there have dreams
Of sucking a dick belonging to their boyfriend,
But he’s sleeping in another room,
and his lower torso has snaked around the distance
Just to meet your lips
And be eaten with your eyes.

I don’t really know what’s of us,
But I tried to deny we were even in a relationship
Just to save people chittering
because they didn’t have much better to do with their lives,
Talk about the tables turning, crutch under the other arm now,
I chitter about their lives
And they either know or don’t,
Fine by me.

I’m sick to death of the dragging carcasses I carry,
Ironic in a flat of girls, it could still be so messy
And two women have left their plates on the side for 5 days now,
I’m gonna smash them over their heads.
Its just like school again isn’t it,
The amount of times I wanted to bash old friends of the head with their own self-certainty
And arsiness,

I burn cigarettes into their arms,
Into their eyes,
They melt like blood and harden like a boner.
Feeling flushed yet lover?

Why’d you have to do it,
Why’d you have to put my chest into your ribcage,
God calls it a safety jacket,
I prefer to call it a built-in prison,
I don’t even get to shower inside you,
But I suppose when you give your heart to somebody
they get to decide what it is they wanna do with it
And if I get crushed,
Well, I hope I make a great smoothie.
Unforgettably good.

Nothing’s gonna make us stronger than the next 3 years,
but hell, why am I tying myself down,
And why do I think and contemplate the future when I don’t even know who I am
or what I’m looking for in myself,
but I’ve been rummaging through the same chest of drawers in my brain
and all i’ve found is poetry

Just to write what I feel,
Well, this is one part of what I feel,
But I am perfectly entitled
To blowing you away with the champagne corks
and showing you
just exactly what I’m made of”.

And there you go,
I’m stained in blood of others,
“Why’d you have to go put my name down”
“Why’d you make me look so bad”
Truth is,
I don’t really care.

After years of people telling me I wasn’t worth it
because I’m weird and strange and I don’t earn a place amongst you guys so we can be friends
girls ruining christmas ball for me because of their personal vendettas,
other girls ruining school for me because of their pernicious mothers or pernicious personalities
Truth be told,
I haven’t got a single teardrop left to smear across the face of this dirty scummy planet,
And fuck anybody here who says I can’t break the barriers,
I’m about to toss the world up into the air like a coin
And it lands only on MY SIDE
when nobody else is around you
Cast your mind back to kissing in the car at early morning,
and in dying in that split second, we’d be happy,
I feel your arms around my torso pulling me in closer
but you’re not any closer,
And its breaking me.

And fuck it, we have to busy ourselves, prepare ourselves for the worst,
But truth is I don’t want to get hurt,
Who really prepares themselves for the sell-by date on what nourishes them most in this life,
More than pizza, more than hot chocolate,
I just want Halloween again as a young girl
and my mother holding my hand on the streets
she’s cradling me on the sofa in a warm blanket
And we’re happy,
I’ve never felt more protected than being in her arms,
And that’s why every bad day at school there ever was
(I’m really sorry to say that most days there were bad)
I’d turn the TV on and sob into her shoulders
And I don’t even have that and the winter air biting my head off
To do that.

I’ve just got breezes.
And I’m making amazing friends with stories you wouldn’t believe.
Suffering is so common, happens to everyone,
But I don’t give a shit if I’m offending “the man she loves”
Because I don’t fucking love him. LOL.

What I’m trying to say is,
I wanted to come to the beach and take everyone I love with me
And you should’ve been here on this really sunny day.
Just take care of yourself,
I’m wearing your skin now.

So, that’s that for now,
But if you get the chance to ever reply to me,
Just send something back.
Anything, this time, really.


4 thoughts on “Personal Problems: 7th Account

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