Cuts deep

pain remains my dear old friend
we go way back when —
in my arm lies a collection of cuts and bruises,
each representing a tear that found its way down my cheek…

in my body –flows black putrid rain
that represents my blood.
i am misery come alive.
a dream that never turned just right.

as i weave my tales and spin my lies,my heart weeps.
where do i go now?
an experiment gone wrong.
welcome to my world,leave your happiness at the door.

hope doesn’t live here.
another glass shatters.
i fear — is it my heart?
another heartbreak, promises broken.

here i am…another fallen angel.

OMG! I came across this really old poem from a former friend’s blog (why we’re not friends now deserves its own post). i am so f@ckin’ emo when i was in college. maybe that’s why i never attracted normal boys. all the boys i dated were a weird assortment of losers and pseudo-weirdos. maybe i should have acted more normal then. but then again, maybe if i was normal then, i’d be more of an insufferable brat today. basta! this poem is so cringe-worthy, it’s making me gag!)

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