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I called Poison Control yesterday;
They told me to stop harassing them and hung up.
I told my two best friends
That I was killing myself today,
But my shrink laughed
And the four year old kicked me in the shin.
My lover won't leave me,
Not ever I'm quite confident;
My lover doesn't even mind
When my left hand joins in.
I'm a perpetual failure and I like it;
The pay's not great,
But, oh, the stories i know.
I got spat on
By my own reflection
And I can't tell what it is
But there's something growing cold
In the middle of my mind.
I think I like this,
Though I'm not sure what this is.
My ex-girlfriend keeps telling me to get help
But I don't need help
To do nothing,
And I'm plenty good at it anyway.
I'm dead, I'm dying,
Every breath I take
Is one more closer to my last.
Exciting mundanity
Wraps my every moment;
Look at my face-
Can't you see my excitement?
I'm diseased,
I'm plagued,
And what's the cure to life anyway?
- COMMENTS
Anonymousover 20 years agoA fairly humorous send-up of all the "life is awful - Nobody loves me - Guess I'll go eat worms" genre of awful angst and pitiful poetry!
