WHEEL.....OF.....FORTUNEEEEEE
yea so..more poems...and life stil sucks...
Future Prospects
Well, I’m sitting here again, trying to think of clever tids and bits for anyone who’ll read it. This is just another thing to make you feel better about yourself. This is just another medal to put on your wall. Yes, you’ve got me, and now it’s time to move on. That how it is isn’t it? Once you’ve got it, it’s onto the next specimen. Well that’s great for you, but I’m still stuck here waiting for you to change your mind, hoping that I won’t be stuck in this purgatory, where if you don’t come back, judgment might just place me with all the other failures of history. I had you at one point and moved on, now you’re giving me a taste of my own medicine, but my hearts not responding. And what would happen if you did change your mind. Maybe we’d last, because I know I’m in it for the long haul this time. I was last time, too. But yet again, I’m here alone, and you’re holding me in your hands. Just crush me. End me for good, and don’t leave anything for future prospects.
Last Chance
I’ve kept everything you’ve written to me. I’ve kept every single word you’ve said to me etched in my mental note pad. I’ve kept every little thought I’ve had of you written down. I’m just logging every moment I spend with you; the good, the bad the ugly. Finally, it’s time to study up. It’s time to look at all those mental notes and written reminders. I just have to find that ONE thing that you saw in me. I have to find that special thing I did to make you feel for me. It would be the solution. If I only knew what I had done, I could try again, or morph it so that you’d fall for me again. I need to know how to get you back. If I could just show you, prove to you that I’m worth your time, worth your heart, than I might still stand a chance. I finally know what I’m dealing with, and how fragile it really is, and I’m not going to ruin it, not now since I finally know. I just need that last chance, that last chance.
and i kinda like this one......
Paranoia
The more we start to talk again, the less hope I feel inside me. Every word that rolls off your tongue cuts away from salvation. Slowly I’m watching you drift into the sunset. It’s a funny thing irony. Ironic that beauty will leave in beautiful ways. The image will be burned into me, into my being. This feeling in my gut tells me exactly what my brain is. When I pick up on those signs, my body is just confirming every suspicion. Or maybe I’m just SKEPTICAL of my closest colleagues. Who do I turn to now if I can’t even trust my friends? Ha, and that’s me. Laughing my life way. Sarcasm just kept me here a little long than anticipated. But hey, I’m here aren’t I? Shouldn’t I at least make the best of it before I go out? “It’ll get better eventually.” Those are the only words I’ve got to lean on. How long? How long until it gets better? You don’t fucking know but hey “It’ll get better…” No it fucking won’t.
and i'd like to add that jillian weigel, by being a good true friend of mine, has brighten my night.
Future Prospects
Well, I’m sitting here again, trying to think of clever tids and bits for anyone who’ll read it. This is just another thing to make you feel better about yourself. This is just another medal to put on your wall. Yes, you’ve got me, and now it’s time to move on. That how it is isn’t it? Once you’ve got it, it’s onto the next specimen. Well that’s great for you, but I’m still stuck here waiting for you to change your mind, hoping that I won’t be stuck in this purgatory, where if you don’t come back, judgment might just place me with all the other failures of history. I had you at one point and moved on, now you’re giving me a taste of my own medicine, but my hearts not responding. And what would happen if you did change your mind. Maybe we’d last, because I know I’m in it for the long haul this time. I was last time, too. But yet again, I’m here alone, and you’re holding me in your hands. Just crush me. End me for good, and don’t leave anything for future prospects.
Last Chance
I’ve kept everything you’ve written to me. I’ve kept every single word you’ve said to me etched in my mental note pad. I’ve kept every little thought I’ve had of you written down. I’m just logging every moment I spend with you; the good, the bad the ugly. Finally, it’s time to study up. It’s time to look at all those mental notes and written reminders. I just have to find that ONE thing that you saw in me. I have to find that special thing I did to make you feel for me. It would be the solution. If I only knew what I had done, I could try again, or morph it so that you’d fall for me again. I need to know how to get you back. If I could just show you, prove to you that I’m worth your time, worth your heart, than I might still stand a chance. I finally know what I’m dealing with, and how fragile it really is, and I’m not going to ruin it, not now since I finally know. I just need that last chance, that last chance.
and i kinda like this one......
Paranoia
The more we start to talk again, the less hope I feel inside me. Every word that rolls off your tongue cuts away from salvation. Slowly I’m watching you drift into the sunset. It’s a funny thing irony. Ironic that beauty will leave in beautiful ways. The image will be burned into me, into my being. This feeling in my gut tells me exactly what my brain is. When I pick up on those signs, my body is just confirming every suspicion. Or maybe I’m just SKEPTICAL of my closest colleagues. Who do I turn to now if I can’t even trust my friends? Ha, and that’s me. Laughing my life way. Sarcasm just kept me here a little long than anticipated. But hey, I’m here aren’t I? Shouldn’t I at least make the best of it before I go out? “It’ll get better eventually.” Those are the only words I’ve got to lean on. How long? How long until it gets better? You don’t fucking know but hey “It’ll get better…” No it fucking won’t.
and i'd like to add that jillian weigel, by being a good true friend of mine, has brighten my night.