neo riddick

Really - Poem by neo riddick

the more and more I see and hear is the very reason there is a here. drugs. alcohol. anything to dull the pain. they ask me why I care about Japan when I should care about the Jersey pension. Friends? Enemies? Neighbors? we made a HUGE mess. I come back over and the sink is leaking again. I know that wherever I go I will be there. I will be miserable. is it me? is the house in good shape and I am just crazy? I question everything and everyone. it is me that I doubt though. I failed myself. my standards are too high. or maybe I just refuse to live like others. I really need to know. am I too 'prissy' are my standards too high? the things that fall apart are acceptable. I do not think so. confined to a prison. a prison of me. are my standards too high? should I sit back and let others lie while my insides die. finally I ask the real question...... when I changed. when that pathetic person left. am I too prissy. too high end. should I age myself with drug and alcohol induced comas? or. do I accept what and who I am.

I have soo much. this I know.
bikes. dogs. real label bags. name brand clothing. and a passion for books. a need to push.
a realistic goal to stop the pain from the documents signed. to keep an elderly man from having no home. to repair the other house. the house another wanted and loved. i will move my office myself. no one needs too know where I work.
do I really spend too much time on the lawn? I refuse to pay anyone. The lawn is MY MASTERPIECE.
if I am all that I appear to be. prissy. perfectionist. high end. high standards. what I will do is heal you. a deviant is what the art world labels us. this is a promise that I must keep. no more stick figures. I really need to take a brilliant photo. crissy.......... or whatever her name is. really. should I accept this and live like others? my clothes are nice. my bags are real. my simplistic furnishings. no background. they see a fat ass ring when I wear it in a slick not fashion bug black dress with heels to die for and a bag to match. what they fail to see is me in the dumpster giving and caring.

am I a prissy lady who expects too much from a 200grand house? they notice so much that I do not about me. spinning circles around so many. I fail to see what they see.
find the questions and answer them please

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, March 16, 2011

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