I am missing the good ol' days,
but I gotta let go.
I am missing the good ol' days,
but
I
must
let
go.
I must break the chains
yes,
those wickedly
traced chains
etched chains
chain marks
bruises
slashes
cuts
dents in our rib cages
left behind...
left behind...
the pseudo war wounds
from our banters
ravings
love rings
criminal
policital stings
political agendas
forgetting that you are a
poet
a writer
an artist
harrassing others
with your annoying cries of
Oh, but what Everyone does to me!
I used to shrug my shoulders and say
write about it.
stop thinking about it.
ponder it no further.
Write
About
It.
on your iPad
iPhone
sketch pad
back pocket note pad
palm of your had
blog
grandma's grocery list
ex-girlfriend's bleached jeans
I do not care.
Just write it!
If I enable You -
if I let you just mouth it to my face
it strikes like thorns...
into my eye pupils,
the end of my tongue,
my nostril,
my chest,
my lungs,
my thighs...
Yes,
you get too close.
You've gone too far.
Outrageously outraged
with these ill thoughts
that you just won't get rid of
because you feel you're such a victim.
and you wanna have a drink with me
like the good ol' days...
But all that has changed.
we boycotted the old hang out
it shut down
too many beggars grab
at my boobs at the new joint
I used to be able to yell so much!
...but now
no so much
not as much
any...
more...
even if I try.
I
am
Tired...
I am tired of
all the anger
and the hatred
and the rage
and the annoyance
of the gossip
and all of evil's pleasures...
It is difficult to remember
the good ol' days
if you can't remind me
of the good old ways...
and if you can't win over
the good ol' pals
good ol' lovers
good ol' guys and gals
we all used to
hang
out
with.
I have to let you go.
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