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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2297209-Disjointed
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Dark · #2297209
A poem about the "why" of life. Why self-inflict torment? Why choose death over life?
Ya' know
The grind of life tears us apart
There's not one soul survivor
If I could, I'd plant a money tree
Then I wouldn't have to wade through
Resinous sludge, day in, day out
Slowin' me down
At least I have my sticky icky
To caress me sensually
Blowin' my mind 'til I

Pass.

Out
Of the frying pan, into the fire
Stress comes careening carelessly
What am I even going on about?
Paranoid once again, my friend
Is this all life is about?
Makes me sick!
They say the cure is worse than
The accursed illness
... I'm fine

Pass.

I'm high
Safe and sound up in the sky
Nobody can snatch me up
Here with the queers
Isn't it odd how they try
To pierce us with they're flamin' darts?
I'm invincible!
It is you who are the tarts
Man, I have the munchies now!
Want some snacks? I'll share :)

Pass.

Story time
Far above the stars is a king
That can heal even a
Weeping willow's hurts
So they say, anyway
Isn't it too good to be true?
A crock of shit
Is what I chew through to choose
Destruction over salvation
I'm not worth it, so I'll

Pass.

Ya' know
The grind of life tears us apart
There's not one soul survivor
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2297209-Disjointed