A Poem by Akroma

When you come into my home your pores cry, your veins pop,
And you give me that f*****g desperate look.
You see what you see but you don’t see me,
You can’t enter this storybook.

Say what you will about the "disgusting" state of my place.

Nothing matters but the rainbows in my veins.
And nothing matters,
But the explosions in my drugged up brain.

And if you want to call me out,
And hang my cocked and forgotten head,
Then by all means, you say your piece,
To ears long since dead.

You search for peace like a rodent for scraps
And claim I need to find mine.
You forget, my friend, where I have been,
And the table where I now dine.

Peace and I shake hands and part ways,
I give Him a fond goodbye glance,
Knowing later on this very evening
We will continue our torrid romance.

Him and I dance the waltz of eternal lovers,
While I fill my lungs on months of mold.
Stay gift wrapped in s**t stained sheets,
To escape ever feeling cold.

Inside this place no one cares one cent
About the piles of last notice mail,
My bruised bones and my scabbed up arms,
I am free, because I already fail.

My friend, you are trapped by your fear of escape
So you curse each move you make.
Stain your pillow each and every night
Because you know you're a coward, a fake.

I am who I say I am,
Which is nothing at all.
You may call me whatever you wish,
While I float and you fall.

So, please, sweep away the needles all you will then pack up and go.
You’ll discover you can’t change a decided mind.
And though you may weep now, I assure you this,
It is you who will end up left behind.

© 2011 Akroma

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Added on March 20, 2011
Last Updated on March 20, 2011



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