Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

These things get harder to express as she runs out the door for the final time

Those words,
They want to tell you how bad
It is
To think this way, but,
They get caught in your throat,
In an obstruction of
Phlegm and common sense.

Running away from the problem,
And then skirting the issue until you can see
It in
Decent terms
Isn't what the doctor said to do.
Instead,
You walked out the door to
Confront
The disappointments you tried
So hard
To hide yourself from.

Hey, I heard the bathroom is a great place to do it in,
I'll take you there,
Lead you on,
Leave you alone
And probably never call again.

After all, if I don't do it to you,
You'll wreck the f--k out of me,
And I'd rather keep my
Functioning organs
In tact.
No need to have my
Blackened heart
Ripped out of my chest before I'm ready.

Consecration keeps me
Locked
In a room with no windows,
A room with four walls the color of death
And people wonder why I have issues.

Me, with that fake smile, red lipstick from ear to ear,
Those eyes that tell of falsities,
And a glint of something that leads
A person to wonder.

They are usually right anyway,
With what they are thinking.

November 11, 2006
Suge



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These things get harder to express as she runs out the door for the final time

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