I started to write poetry and may even keep a journal of all the shit that gets dumped on me everyday.
I may even youtube it.
Here's my poetry and here's Rory Gilmore. Her witty lines and independance in one cute voiced "package" stop me going all Carrietta White minus the telekinetic powers.
That woman
She's banging banging against the walls
Theyre closing in and no one's there anymore
She's going crazy becausethey ran away
Couldnt listen to her
Couldnt hear her
Couldnt understand
No one cares about her extended hand
The way she looked them in the eye for help
But a smile played on her lips
A smile is a lie
The room is getting tighter
The air is getting hotter
She's banging harder
Putting it into words becomes harder
Breathing is harder
Trapped trapped trapped between two hard walls
No one can hear her
But all she really wants to say is
No she won't change herself
But you can change, YOU can change, you can control it
But don't you see she can't
She says it finally..the words she's been looking for
She says it under closed breath, sweat on her upper lip
Her clothes soaked
Her mouth dry
She's banging
She's crazy
She's hysterical
Then she remembers in those few moments of realisation
Cold and hard and isolating
That yes other than she was truly alive
She will always be on her own.
Evil bitches and their pussy little followers.
Like a whiny baby he tags along with her
Always ready to conform and give in to her
She was under his thumb
Soon he'll be under her heels
Evil bitches can't really be happy
They can pretend
For a moment she will look at the sun
Oh it's because she cares..
...
Then as if the sun rays highlight her disappointments
She will start whining like her little baby friend
I hate
I hate
I hate
HE merely tags along with her
Perhaps burping time is due
I laugh at bitches like her.
Decency prevents me from kicking her.
She belongs in shit
Perhaps she thinks she will meet me there
But evil bitches don't belong
They go to Hell.
Whiny babies like him get born every minute.
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