"...blood-banks go arid
when the constant is drain..."
Showing posts with label Anger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anger. Show all posts
Rewritten [E]
You're playing with the darkness like you're mystery alive,
vampires in your dreams - intensity as your guide,
They all think that you're honest - oh, but I know the truth,
there's nothing good or decent living inside of you.
You are useless and vile -
a dried-up hag and a liar...
I wouldn't piss in your ass if your guts were on fire.
I have rewritten... the thoughts I had fermented
due to the kind of person, you pretended to be.
Once a betrayal... has caused a mind to pale
no returning the illusion that I once had believed.
I used to find your goddess complex amusing and cute,
until I learned about the monster hiding under the ruse,
Your negativity and bitterness are all way too much,
infecting every soul - that you toy with and touch.
You're like an STD
that won't go away...
polluting every thought that I have in my brain.
I have rewritten... the script you have presented
due to the deceptions you are throwing the mass.
Victim of a player... the cloak you like to wear,
when we both know that you're lying straight out of your ass.
Others tried to warn me about the games that you play
but I wouldn't listen to them - the price I now have to pay,
You like to front it ballsy but the fact still remains,
You're like a fucking child - scared to death of the rain.
While the scorn that you carry -
it feeds your abuse,
and those bitches that you hang around are just - like - you.
I have rewritten... the poems I'd submitted
due to what I've learned - and you're still sniffing around.
A day of peace... my life will be complete
when I know your worthless ass is finally shoved in the ground.
Original Copyright © 2008 Stone Bryson. All Rights Reserved.
Written December 2008
vampires in your dreams - intensity as your guide,
They all think that you're honest - oh, but I know the truth,
there's nothing good or decent living inside of you.
You are useless and vile -
a dried-up hag and a liar...
I wouldn't piss in your ass if your guts were on fire.
I have rewritten... the thoughts I had fermented
due to the kind of person, you pretended to be.
Once a betrayal... has caused a mind to pale
no returning the illusion that I once had believed.
I used to find your goddess complex amusing and cute,
until I learned about the monster hiding under the ruse,
Your negativity and bitterness are all way too much,
infecting every soul - that you toy with and touch.
You're like an STD
that won't go away...
polluting every thought that I have in my brain.
I have rewritten... the script you have presented
due to the deceptions you are throwing the mass.
Victim of a player... the cloak you like to wear,
when we both know that you're lying straight out of your ass.
Others tried to warn me about the games that you play
but I wouldn't listen to them - the price I now have to pay,
You like to front it ballsy but the fact still remains,
You're like a fucking child - scared to death of the rain.
While the scorn that you carry -
it feeds your abuse,
and those bitches that you hang around are just - like - you.
I have rewritten... the poems I'd submitted
due to what I've learned - and you're still sniffing around.
A day of peace... my life will be complete
when I know your worthless ass is finally shoved in the ground.
Original Copyright © 2008 Stone Bryson. All Rights Reserved.
Written December 2008
Room To Breathe [E]
Stop your manipulations...
and stop this fucking play,
stop with all the fear you sell that
you won’t tolerate my way
(I have to breathe).
This active parenting from a lover
is something I can live without,
how ‘bout you treat me as an equal -
and not your petulant child.
I have to cover the checks-and-balance
for what I choose to bleed -
so get the hell out of my life...
or give me room to breathe.
You knew I had neurotics...
before this whole thing rose,
phobia taunts and tears my mind
and pulls apart my prose
(just let me breathe).
I think you better step off a bit and
watch your goddamned mouth,
an invasion of the mind and soul -
that drives my love to drought.
It’s time for me to reap the harvest
of my rotting mental seeds,
so pack your shit and walk away...
or give me room to breathe.
I’m fighting all the tension...
the tautness of disguise,
and the stench of desperation that
floods my heart and eyes
(it’s time to breathe).
The lack of respect for who I am
is clear by what you say,
the nosebleeds from your pedestal -
I’m sure are quite a pain.
The eagle that’s been caged so long
must rise up and be free,
so head the fuck on down the road...
or give me room to breathe.
Original Copyright © 2008 Stone Bryson. All Rights Reserved.
Written January 2008
and stop this fucking play,
stop with all the fear you sell that
you won’t tolerate my way
(I have to breathe).
This active parenting from a lover
is something I can live without,
how ‘bout you treat me as an equal -
and not your petulant child.
I have to cover the checks-and-balance
for what I choose to bleed -
so get the hell out of my life...
or give me room to breathe.
You knew I had neurotics...
before this whole thing rose,
phobia taunts and tears my mind
and pulls apart my prose
(just let me breathe).
I think you better step off a bit and
watch your goddamned mouth,
an invasion of the mind and soul -
that drives my love to drought.
It’s time for me to reap the harvest
of my rotting mental seeds,
so pack your shit and walk away...
or give me room to breathe.
I’m fighting all the tension...
the tautness of disguise,
and the stench of desperation that
floods my heart and eyes
(it’s time to breathe).
The lack of respect for who I am
is clear by what you say,
the nosebleeds from your pedestal -
I’m sure are quite a pain.
The eagle that’s been caged so long
must rise up and be free,
so head the fuck on down the road...
or give me room to breathe.
Original Copyright © 2008 Stone Bryson. All Rights Reserved.
Written January 2008
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Known in many (albeit small) online circles over the past 15 years, Stone Bryson is a poet, storyteller, and essayist. He is working on various writing projects, and lives what he describes as an 'analog life.' He resides in Jackson County, Missouri.