Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Yesterday (today) was Sunday. 
Sundays are always bad. 
(“Bloody,” as they have been aptly described.) 
The full moon is Wednesday. 
Full moons are always bad. 
(Ask Lon Chaney.) 
Friday is Good Friday 
and, 30 miles from Rome, 
the vibrations of all those mourning 
worshippers will make it bad. 
Sunday is Easter–but it’s also 
Sunday, 
and Sundays are always bad.”

 

Please let me out

 

I’M SCARED

Bro ken

::

Barely breathing,

I want to be fixed.

but it doesn’t come quick

it comes sllow

like how long i took to fall.

But I did, right before you left.

I didn’t need you,

you needed me.

i ignored you, you didn’t ignore me

but then you did the worst thing of all –

you left forever

& you’re moved on to who I think you think is better.

It’ll never be the same,

You forgive, I don’t forget.

::

I almost forgot

I’ve been so busy today that I almost forgot,

that you’re gone

Not only are you gone, but I have been

replaced.

I want to stalk you on SM but I know I(t) will bring blood again

Why can’t I forget this?

I wish you never existed –

I wish you would go away

I use to say I’ve felt close to death since you left,

But you’re the only one I wish was gone
forever

I wish I didn’t love so hard.

I love hard, it’s criminal

But you’re the criminal.

The one that lied and stole,

The one that came and left.

I wish I could arrest you (or have you beaten),

Like the old days

But in your mind, you did nothing wrong.

I hope one day,

It all catches up with you

So bad – that you wish that you were in prison  instead.