Release.

A Poem by Natasha

The constant assault.
Blames. Complaints.
Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit.

Attitude//Anger

Confused by the very idea of the wrath inflamed.
Enwrapping these fragile beings into one entity.
GIANT. BALL. OF. IRRITATION.

Epiphany. Waiting.
Please, sing. Louder now.
Drown me. Suffocate me.

Now. Now. Now.

All I can do is think and cringe and shiver and repeat.
Repeat. Replay. Rewind.
It never ends. Never ends.

Broken records have come again.

Author's Note

Five minute crap.

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Added on December 9, 2009

I write. I feel. I think. Therefore, I am. Here, at least. Hello, how are you? more..

unconsciously

Static Slurs