They're screaming at me again,
why?
Doesn't really matter.
It's something
that would have sent me
to my knife's hiding place.
But now that I've quit the knife,
it jusst pisses me off.
They're threatening me
ooo, 'cuz it just hurts me sooo much doesn't it?
All it makes me do now,
is cuss under my breath
possibly flip you off when your back is turned
and stalk off.
You may think
you're so big and strong,
but really,
you're just a dick.
What's that?
Fine.
I'll leave so you can think you won again.
I think I'll go have a smoke
that I stole from you.
*Grabs lighter and heads upstairs*
*Holds flame to cigarette*
*Inhales*
*Exhales*
Who won now?
Oct.-27-09
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem