I'm sick of this whole anarchy, try-to-be-tougher-than-you-are attitude, with eye bags as deep as craters, you could fit your entire soul inside. I'm sick of this whole rebel-like, worn-out jeans with rips in every seam, because you dream about laces tying slipknots near walls that have experienced too many shots, and you just like pretty chokers, don't you? I'm sick of this whole new age internet-addiction, what-im-gonna-say prediction, syncing, syncing,syncing disconnected like weak wi-fi genius. I'm sick of the people with broken vases as decoration pieces, Even though I want to love all the ones that made mosaics with them, I onlySee them as renegades. I'm sick of the women with their powdery faces, and faint flowery smells, like they're empty bottles of perfume, you could have guessed smashed I'm sick of the men with buttons that won't quite fit over their pot-bellies laughs that remind me of worse things to come, Insides full of rust and they're just rotting away.I'm sick of the way you don't understand,How you think interesting people are people are like me,All four of you that didn't get it,All four of you that left. All four of you that I thought would stay. You'll be the fifth. I'm not as interesting as I am full of useless facts,Useless statistics like 99% of peopleWill not notice you're broken if you tell themUnusual things like did you know turtles breathe out of Their butts when what I actually meant wasI'd like to stop breathing altogether, butI keep going because these thoughts areForbidden. Im sick of pretending.Im sick of being the cement that holds these bricks together. Thank you for showing me that sometimes, we need ruins to make a city,But I think this town has seen too many warsAlready to find time for remembranceOf the girl who loved to forget. I can only hope that you'll think of me once in a while.
Liberosis