on that autumn day

[anarchokid]

it still haunts me today
the punching the fluid that spilled
the way your dad was psycho
all the womens hearts that he killed

I remember you in bushes peering down at me
the sick and twisted member that became of me
the forest for trees the sick twisted we
the hatred from three

I remember and I know what holds me here
your sick twisted mind. your sick twisted self
the self that makes me me.

I wish there was some way to remove all the hate
but I just sit here, and wait.
for an answer to decapitate
the forces that make me procrastinate
from a healthy life.

I dont have issues.
just a couple or two.
I just bleed words.
and I remember you.