Listen, real poetry doesn't say anything...

bitter-not-sweet

Hatred rises in your stomach like vomit,
plunging outward at your expense.
You can't help but feel disgusted
as you puke your emotions at every one.
Not everyone but every One.
They're all "the one". They're all "the one".
"BUT IT'S SO MUCH FUN!"
Well not this time,
it's not the time, it's not the time.
I'm thinking I'm pathetic,
but that's mine to keep and be alone,
yes, alone with my telephone,
a boy at home waiting 400 miles,
commitment at it's best,
denial at it's finest.
That's what you say, that's exactly what you say.
This love is at it's purest.

posted by Unknown @ 8:36 AM