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"A great poet, a really great poet, is the most unpoetical of all creatures." The Picture of Dorian Gray

Saturday, October 2, 2010

day seventy-seven: bitter washes away with tears.

bitter
i can taste
the bitter
in my soul
like a foul
odor it seeps
from certain pores
and glands

bitter
because i fear you
because i fear who you've become
i'm afraid i'll be like you
and then where would i be?
bitter?

bitter
stop looking over my shoulder
and trying to explain things i already know
sure, you're my boss, but your communication sucks.
just shut up,
i'm
bitter.

bitter
because you love too soon
but so do i
so i'm mad at me
for backtracking
but it worked
so i'm less
bitter about this.

bitter
about the screw
that screwed me
out of sixty dollars
to screw in an old screw
sixty dollars is at least worth
a new freaking screw
you old perverted screw.
i should have been more specific
about what to do with that screw.
cause i'm
bitter.

but don't worry,
bitter washes away with tears.

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