Fuck Your Sorries and Screw Your Sermons

December 11, 2014 § Leave a comment


You’re small in death.

Reduced to this sack of flesh,
bolstered only by the grim mechanics of
belated cosmetic attention.

I hate you. You’re not him.
This is a body dragged out to take his place.
That suit’s brand new, and without the pirate smile all I see is a stranger’s face.

Fuck you, I’m leaving.
He’ll be home when I get there,
Pouring wine on a school night.
That’s where he is.

You can all take your fucking
SORRIES
and screw each other with them.
They’re POISON to me and I want to kill every one of you.

Out, getting out.
Out into the light where I can smell our land.
Land of huge skies and pork pies,
where we love endlessly.

I’m not listening. Shut up.
SHUT UP.
He’ll be there.
He’s there.
He wouldn’t go on without me.

Advertisements

Tagged: , , ,

Am I right? Tell me!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

What’s this?

You are currently reading Fuck Your Sorries and Screw Your Sermons at Mutated Musings.

meta

%d bloggers like this: