Hey baby,
scribble me a line.
But I can't.
I won't
get hurt by you again.
Not this time.
I've learned that mistake
many a time.
And now you've taught me it.
Good for you!
I'm done,
I'm not going to cut over you.
Ever again.
See this paper?
This is my life.
And I'm scribbling you out.
My room smells like ink,
purging you from the system.
You can't be here anymore.
I'm done I'm done I'm done I'm done I'm done I'm done I'm done I'm done I'm done I'm done I'm done I'm done I'm done I'm done I'm done
I AM DONE!
Scribbles are covering everything.
My notebooks and my walls
my legs and my arms.
You don't belong here anymore,
I don't want you around.
You hurt too much.
Look at all the pretty lines that used to be you,
my life was laced with your being.
But you reminded me of what I am,
I'm replaceable.
Now,
I have to replace you.
Just one more line
and-
you're gone.
March.-29-10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem