My Darling Buds of May

[GERGE]

I loved him so;
(it must have made it all the more sweet to pull him between your legs.)
I don't know,
my little darling
(Buds Of May)
I'm all dried up
with the tears
that I've cried.
I live my life that way that I choose to;
and I regret nothing
about what I've done
to get ahead
of you
and the
thin hair line
from his bellybutton
downward,
or the tattoo
of my face
that you stapled onto your penis
like a proclamation
(of how much I was yours)
I'll just let your sluts
suck it (and you)
off
with the replacement of my absence.
You
and I
aren't going to work it out,
and the bullshit letters that you send to me
won't make it all better,
baby
my
darling
(darkling)
buds
of May
and the failure
of my faltering heart;
don't you get it, I can't cry anymore.
I went away once,
completely
and fucked twelve men
in twelve months
(call me a whore if you want, but it was good sex
-good sex
without shit
to complicate
the situation.-
Its not my fault that your not getting laid
enough
to repay your stubborn streak.
Its not my fault that you view ''shoot'' as a swear word
and have to excuse yourself under the dinner table when you say it.
Its not my fault
that your scared to death
to breath
boldly.)
I loved him so
but my darling
buds
of May
can't sting me
anymore.
What about the investment
of me as
such an ugly girl
(did you know that I cut all of my hair off?)
(did you know that I won't leave the house without enough eyeliner
to hid
my designer-printed heartache?,
whatever the hell was left for you to take
-in the end-
was fake
and she
was not me.)
And its not my fault
that you wanted to move to Alaska and raise abandoned dogs
(or how you stayed up all night
listening to Stevie Nicks tapes as though she we're a god)
or that you fucked two different boys
just to kiss the one that I loved.
And its not my fault
that I was so obscure
that you felt sure
that you needed to be me;
hang on my arm
because everything that I had
you wanted
even him
and my devotion
which outlasted
the outdated walls of high school.
(I have no use for you anymore,
did you know that I don't make friends easily now?)
Did you know how much I loved him?
With his twenty-seven handwritten love letters
that I keep between
the bony layers of my hands
when I read them;
boxed up
boxed in
bullshit,
I loved him so; once,
but I think that if I ever saw any of you again I would scratch your eyes out;
let the fine points of my fingernails
facilitate
my furry,
because I will never get the picture of him
squeezing my breasts,
or him
putting his finger in you
(out of my mind,) or
behind my back
as though you had no clue
(fucking shrew;)
who I called best friend
for so long.
And its not my fault that Jon moved to Texas
(like Grover, right -so akin we're her lies-)
and its not my fault that Matt left you dry,
and its not my fault that you both hung out with Josh when he was high.
But it was my fault that I never asked why
you hurt me so
before the phone line went dead
and how
after graduation
in our gowns of green
I left
and re-birthed myself;
conceivable inside my moan
I carried this hate around me for nine months
and contracted
myself anew
renew
my rebirth:
(did you know that I fell in love with a man
who told me that I was beautiful?)
(did you know that I got scared
-rabbit like, am I-
and ran?)
And its not my fault
that
my three little darling buds of May
(the one made of lies especially)
never cared
to notice
the pain on my face
that last year,
from Christmas on
when I was planning my get away
like a clever thief.
You can pull yourself together all you want;
but A.manda: you will always be just like your mother,
and A.ngela: will always be just like you
and he
is death
kissed
into life;
poison
(he lets you in
to fuck you out.)
And to think
I once loved him so.

[ Mesaj 24 Temmuz 2007, Salı - 20:29 tarihinde, GERGE tarafından güncellenmiştir ]