I’m Tired

I’m tired of your “LOL”s and “FETCH” lines

I’m tired of your grief sicken words,
that pierce my stomach with each syllable.

I’m tired of the protruding horns that menace me,
every time that I look at your face.

I’m tired of pain, hurt, and sorrow.

I’m tired of crying my hopeless dreams away,
to only replace them with nightmares.

I’m tired of sleepless nights afloat in midair,
away from sleep’s melancholy peace.

I’m tired of me.

I’m tired of trying to re-build to build,
instead of build to be built.

I’m tired of you, I, neh, nor, is, what, you, and who.

Horton never did see a who,
nor green eggs and ham are true.

Black and white.
Never out of sight.

Doomed said I and I said Doom.

Forsaken me not,
because I am in bloom.

Like a Venus fly trap, I spit my acid in words,
defined as that same piercing lullaby.

Can’t you hear it?
Can’t you see it?
Isn’t it familiar?
I got it from you.

Aren’t you proud?
I know I’m not.
But what can I do?

When the only melody I seek,
was redemption’s five stages of death.

for I had turned the other cheek.

for I had manifested pain into reality.

for I had pleaded death for its embrace.

for I had nothing.

for I had acknowledged that DEATH was not for me to chose.

Can you hear it?
Can you see it?
Isn’t it familiar?
That same piercing melody?

You should know,
because I got it from you.


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