I am oh so bitterly honest with absolutely no one, not even myself.
What an uplifting way to start a poem, wouldn't you agree?
Now trust me when I say this doesn't reek of self-loathing for ill intent,
It's just something that needs to be said for the better part of me.
It takes the loss of sanity and the clear vision of a horrid tomorrow
To allow myself to become brutally honest and reflect true light upon who I am.
It takes a million fucking thoughts of a million fucking happenings
In order to finally accept the whys and whats and comprehend.
Now with all smarm aside, let's accept that I miss what I've lost,
And I punish myself every day for the things I can't forgive.
Let's accept the shitty personality and the way things all went,
I still can't help but want to make things better and reminisce.
Now this isn't one of my better poems, it barely passes as one in my eyes.
But it's as necessary as the others for basic human appreciation of the soul.
Oh come on, shut up, don't act so damn important:
You deserved it all, you deserve all the things you've been told.
And if we want to access the situation, if we want to see things for what they are,
Let's be real and accept this as another necessary event of life.
Everybody is falling apart, save for the ones that you want to fall apart;
Everybody also goes through these "worst of times".
Now me and you, the person not reading this poem, this absolute person of interest,
The person whom this is all about (but will never give my art the time of day again),
Let's just miss each other at the same time, for a small amount of time,
I think that's all we'd need for this forgiveness and resolve to begin.
It's 5 A.M. in the fucking morning, and I'm two strong beers deep,
I haven't eaten since 8 this night, save for a bite here and there.
And all of these fucking thoughts need to see the light of day, get out of my damn head,
I need to see in front of my face how little you actually do care.
Because as different as night is from day, good is from evil,
And all those cliches get the chance to combine,
So too have you become, from the more pure, deep, honest, innocent person I've ever known,
To this repugnant mess that I've created through negligence over time.
It's never going to get better, because it's never going to be so innocent and honest again,
This I've just realized tonight,
So how do you look forward to each day after day,
When you know that the best, more appreciated things are no longer in your life?
Once again, I am sorry for this sounding so bleak, it really was not my intent.
I just wanted to get things off of my chest, some things I've truly come to lament.
Call it a fucking diary, or a cry for help, call it something that we both know it's not.
These words had to be said in some fashion or form, and every single word I have meant.
The future scares me, because I don't know how someone can trip and fall so hard,
And just walk it all off and smile as if he didn't rip his favorite pair of jeans.
How are you going to replace those jeans?
There's never going to be another pair that fit quite like that one again, good sir,
That's going to hold that place as your favorite for the same unsullied reasons.
You're always just going to end up trying to replace that pair of jeans.
