A Poem by: Lady Zombie
Like a cancer out of remission, there you are again, rearing your ugly hear and shouting obscenities, and same as before, I laugh and shrug you off, because you have no effect on me. In fact, you do. I pity you.
I pity the miles you will always walk alone, smoldering in your own hatred, wasting years of your life with bitterness stuck between your teeth, seething in self-loathing. An endless cycle of problems you create for yourself, breeding them out of your own cunt, straddling and fucking a huge smorgasbord of bad ideas, left to wallow in the dust of your own destruction.
You are simply the mosquito bite itch that annoys until scratched bloody, only to scab and heal, fall away, until the next time. If anything, I certainly tire of you. Those closest to me heave great sighs of dismay at your very presence, at the mention of your name, at the sound of your voice… a cancer to us all.
Years should heal, but in your own malicious intent, your pain grows, your anger grows, and one day you might look up and see the truth… that life has gone on without you. There is such beauty, bounty and greatness in this life, and I only hope that you shove your hanging eyeballs back into their bleeding sockets to seek out and find your own, where perhaps you will not be discarded like so much rotten fruit.
I pity the miles you will always walk alone, smoldering in your own hatred, wasting years of your life with bitterness stuck between your teeth, seething in self-loathing. An endless cycle of problems you create for yourself, breeding them out of your own cunt, straddling and fucking a huge smorgasbord of bad ideas, left to wallow in the dust of your own destruction.
You are simply the mosquito bite itch that annoys until scratched bloody, only to scab and heal, fall away, until the next time. If anything, I certainly tire of you. Those closest to me heave great sighs of dismay at your very presence, at the mention of your name, at the sound of your voice… a cancer to us all.
Years should heal, but in your own malicious intent, your pain grows, your anger grows, and one day you might look up and see the truth… that life has gone on without you. There is such beauty, bounty and greatness in this life, and I only hope that you shove your hanging eyeballs back into their bleeding sockets to seek out and find your own, where perhaps you will not be discarded like so much rotten fruit.
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3 comments:
This should be on a billboard in Times Square.....
You KNOW I agree with you.
Perhaps I should toss some cash into putting this up all over the city.. It would be nice for her and all her drama seeking kind to see the pathetic state they've carved for themselves..
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