inspired by p4rkr's "i hate it here"
i wish not to be a loser,
pit crews only get so old,
like the bread in the oven
the cars on the highway
the soundtrack to regress.
i dont want to be forgotten,
from yesteryear's old news,
like the chore on the clipboard
the work in a classroom
the differences in lust.
i dont want to see the future,
to find your tunnel's old light,
like the grade on a paper
the sand on a beach
the failure to detest.
i don't know if i can do this,
and to please all those who lie,
like deceit on resume
the five minute dates
the seasons that never change.
if i would change the fate
to rewrite just a page
or fight enormous tidal wave,
i would listen if i could.
if i could seal my plate
or brand my grey rot name,
to halt my ever meal
i might see your truth unfold.
if i might doubt my thoughts
to never see an end
or simply being a friend,
i fright the ruler's lash.
if i fright the flame
or douse the shout in vain,
to nail in my coffin
a rock in your high shoe.
i don't want to be ignorant
or solely root in blood,
like an insolent
or a sour taste,
like a burden in your truth.
i dont want to f*cking be here,
holding onto solid dust,
like a name to remember
a seat to forfeiture
a garden to water.
i dont feel like i deserve it,
going through my friends like clothes,
like a cartridge replaced
a mistake erased
a tank left leaking fuel.
i dont feel your pity love,
sifting layers to decode,
like a blood-type misplay
a pendrop array
a flower to never bloom.
i dont see the real big issue,
inflating tires with my nail,
like a patient array
a depot decay
a teething toddler snail.
look at what you made me
i don't see the problem
i don't have a problem
i cannot control it
i can't really hear you
i can't f*cking see you
i can't f*cking feel you
like an echo in our pool.
i love that you're staring
i love that you're laughing
i love that you're angry
i love that you're happy.
yeah i'm not too happy
i'm not sad much either
i don't have a problem
i want to forget it.
i love that you tell me
all this f*cking bullsh*t
synching my quaint theories
to your ghastly options.
what if i can't see that
like it's f*cking perfect
what if i'm not happy
like you tell me to be.
and i don't wanna be like that
i don't wanna be like you
i cant seem to find a way
to rest in this cold stew;
oh well, i cannot explain it
i hate when it proves true.
