Bedlam
Go ahead… just hit me, pound me while I could still afford to smack you just enough to
get you out of my way. Go ahead and strike me, bruise me while I’m down contemplating and plotting ways to pinch you back. I will show you how off beam your choice is to hurt me. I abhor the fact that you’re not human, but a condition, state of mind truly so unfair…. Can’t you see that I’m bushed and harrowed by you and only you? The moment I lift my head and see a glimpse of harmony you already mastered the art of making my eyes see nothing but pure bedlam and disarray. I hate you I swear… I’m so disgusted with the way you made me so helpless and so wasted. You’ve turned me into a schizophrenic, socially dysfunctional, people pleaser whore. Some may call it being pleasant and being lovely, well lovely my foot. I know I’m ranting and fuming but who gives a flying pooh. I want to rant and scream in your ears until your ossicles bleed, too bad you don’t have ears… puhleeze. Argh!!!!! Just make it stop… make it stop…. Make it stop….. Lord….. I’m so tired… no one dare compare me to anything. I’m not in the mood to be all lovely and pleasant to anyone. So just… just stay away if you consider criticizing me and judging me. It’s bad enough that people make me feel nothing so just please….
