Damn. I hate poetry.

You.

You genuinely don't make sense to me.

You want to be my best friend,

until there's someone better around.

You want to be complimented,

so you self-deprecate desperately.

You want to be more than the present,

but you can't get over the past.

You want to be seen as unique,

but you act exactly like your friends.

You want to sympathize,

but you end up in a lake of pity.

You want your past to stop chasing you,

yet you walk in slow motion.

You are a walking, talking contradiction,

and nothing's gonna change until you do.

You,

just you.

lil poem of emotion

Waiting waiting waiting waiting

Damn

Its been three weeks.

Wheres my email

Wheres my anxiety attack

Let me GET IT OVER WITH now please

The trend has been every three weeks

Its destine to happen soon

Please                                    

The buzz kills me

Nervous every time

This waiting game can’t last