the people I
met who taught me so much more
about rules I
would continue to break “just because”
and how things
like fruit and flowers even had laws
of course
everything I learned came at a cost
mostly
entertainment value for them as I lost
everything, I
couldn’t even save face back then
I was, just, some
punch line for every one of them
but I did
learn a lot and even started to grow
eager to hear
the tiniest hint of approval as though
they were the
masters of my newly acquired hobby
more often
than not all I heard sounded snobby
as if they
knew everything, well maybe they did
but they
didn’t know me or how I learned as a kid
that seeking
approval only leads to resentment
I stopped
trying to be liked finding excitement
with doing things
my way, fuck them all anyway
most of them
hated me, but some started to say
less about me
personally, more about my poetry
I earned
respect from a few which meant more to me
than all the
cheap shots from the snide majority
Gypsy was my
sensei along with Oliva my best frenemy
CdP, Delph and
Steve were always pretty nice to me
I’ll never
forget the writing challenge with JBond
the best rap I
ever wrote, but he could only respond
by showing me
his dick, which (unlike him) left me dangling
I was told I
won, but if that was supposed to be motivating
I missed the class
about how motivation felt
all I wanted
was acceptance, all I got was guilt
**ah shit, here
we go once again
with “someone”
breaking in
so pardon me
while I get rid of him**
you fucking piece
of shit you really need to stop
I’m holding
many gats, I don’t need a fucking cop
remember, and don’t
forget, I know where you live
as well as all
of “them”(the fucktards that you hid)
I’m nowhere
near the same person I was before
me and my
criminally inclined boy left for Ecuador
no-nee-no-no-no
you wannabe, dope dealer
I’m on a whole
shit-ton of killer pain killers
and you never
really had an opportunity to see
how I,
actually, get and who becomes the “real me”
when the opioid,
benzo, muscle relaxing, Adderall
“cocktail” party
makes me the “Belle, baller at the ball”
a, truly, sad
sight to behold since I can no longer breathe
anyone who HAS
seen me jacked knows it’s best to leave
so keep on
keeping on you fucktarded piece of meat
you and I officially
proved, “you are what you eat”
because you’re
a giant pussy and I’m a big, fat dick
which of us
has the handicap when shit starts getting thick?
like Jesus – I’m
beginning to speak in parables
for a world of
people who are so damn pitiful
people like
you who like to screw people like me over
I carried that
cross for fucking years AND I did it sober
so I’ve made a
decision about taking drugs for pain
I’ll take as
many as it takes to stop the function in my brain
stop receiving
the signals telling me to hate life once again
God showed me
I’m not meant to die so I never refrain
I’m not fucked
up like you, I feel nothing for or about you
nor about who
you may or may not decide to screw
I have no care
for your whereabouts or anything like that
the only
reason for any curiosity I, previously, had
was to see if
you had finally gotten past
the feeling
that I owed you until I took my last
breath or
whatever bull shit caused you to
fuck with me
daily because I never owed you
anything, we
were pretty even if score was being kept
(not by you,
either, idiot – God is who I meant)
had we kept
track, honestly, you’d see you
owe me big
it’s likely
your unable to see I want nothing from a pig
I know you’re
not able to understand what I was feeling
but, you’ll
know soon enough about how I was dealing
I cannot die
to save my life so I know I can’t go near
my suicidal
thoughts so, whatever happens, I’ll be here
at least until
my son is fully grown, able to make it on his own
only then, if
I can’t keep going, I’ll be as good as gone
do you feel
better now you gigantic, narcissistic bitch?
I wasn’t lying
when I told you, I don’t give a fucking shit
it’s
impossible for things to mean a thing to the new, old me
I have enough
“chemicals” to run my fun fact-story
© November 18,
2014 – Tamara Imes-Nicholas
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