Friday, September 3, 2010


If you could make me feel responsible, I'd say sorry

You didn't like working nine until five? Sorry
You didn't like being put through school? Sorry
You didn't like being touched there? Sorry
You didn't like the blade being forced through your throat? Sorry
You didn't look as you crossed the street and you didn't like being crushed beneath the wheels? Sorry
You didn't like him with your mom in bed? Sorry
You didn't like how soon he died? Sorry
You didn't like the STD you recieved? Sorry

What and which ones shall I feel responsible for? All of it? That's quite a task, I'll grow my legs until I can't see your insect face and crush you all over again. Either that or grow up yourself and crush me. How easy I forget, how easy it is to forget and become like a child again.
Leave now or Love me
Or is it always you and me, you assume all egos as I assume this singular form?
I see you as the multitude when you're really just one.
And then I separate myself from the waters above and the waters below.
I am the vault of heaven, sin dotting my night sky.

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