Tag Archives: disappointed

sonnet 142 (angry vent, sorry)

“Loving you is my sin, and your precious virtue consists in hating my sin, a hate grounded in your own sinful loving. But compare my moral state with your own, and you’ll see I don’t deserve to be reprimanded, or if I do, not from those lips of yours, which you’ve dishonored by using too much. Your lips have kissed as many people and made as many false promises as mine have, and both of us have cheated on our partners, giving away sexual favors where they don’t belong. If I may be allowed to love you the same way you love those other men whom you seduce with your glances, have a little pity for me; then you’ll deserve to be pitied yourself. If you want people to take pity on you and sleep with you, but you don’t show pity for me, you might be turned down because of your own example.”

You got into this trying to become someone that others can look up to. Now you only promote unhealthy habits and cry yourself asleep alone. No matter who’s bed you’re in. You may be faster, but that only means your faster at hopping into your grave. I’ve grown from my sins, and have made up more than enough for it. Now matter how good I’ve become or how even better I will become, I’ll never fit into your pictures. I’ve only come to realize this moments ago, and I understand. You’ve got the mind of a bunny, and you don’t want your bunny friends to know the tortoise was your guidance counselor. I definitely don’t deserve that, there’s no excuse in the world or in the clouds that could ever justify that. My only sin now is my delusion of having to still worry and care. However, that’s too cruel, even if it’s just. If it’s a race you want, you got it, but we all know the hare never beats the tortoise. Hop along, little rabbit, we’ve learned all we can from you.

(again, I apologize. But some people actually DO kick you when you’re down while you’re just having a sip of tea. Big fat jerk. f word.)

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Filed under non-fiction metaphor, non-fiction rambling, poetry, rhetoric

April Salty Showers

Oh sweet, sweet April. Month of the resurrection. Symbolizing that succulent eternal life, with your neon green grass and birds singing sweet jazz, you are really something. Oh April, you’ve probably got a guy who does your taxes! But why are you going around breaking everyone’s hearts? You’re sick! You’re like a little girl with anti-gravitational locks licking lollipops and lighting fires in a valentine’s day card factory. Let the people see the real red of fluffy hearts with scalpel precision performed randomly in the back alley of the dive bar your step-uncle Pete, with the lazy eye and Beefeater Gin tattoo as a trampstamp he got on a very bad night involving counterfeit and/or well tequila, is that your philosophy?!!? No? Oh… well… what’s the deal?

Everywhere I go, everyone’s hearts are breaking and cellphone minutes are used in 8 minute intervals and voicemail inboxes get filled with wet messages; it tears me up inside. I’m not one for the sensitive side of things, but when my friends are out there on the field getting shot and wounded because April got bored, you bet your sweet ass I’m going to be fired up like a pro baseball player on “performance enhancers.” So here I am in the ER working triple overtime, eating vending machine dinners, healing the sick, wounded, and the heartbroken, only to finally ask myself, “wat is yo damn problem, April? Girl, you best drive in a schoolzone speed befo I kick yo dang teef in. You eva digest a toof befo!?”

This has been a very sad month for my loved ones, but some are finding solstice in the bottom of a pint-glass, shishkebabs, and Tekken 6, which was released on 10/27 and critics say is, “the best way to watch a 70 year old man kill a panda by kicking him in the d*ck, and not on YouTube.” No that wasn’t a plug, more like a, “hang in there guys, if you can still laugh and/or chuckle, you can still live. And if you can still live, you can still unnecessarily smuggle jello shots into inappropriate settings… like a Bed Bath and Beyond, or a 24-hour Kinko’s with a vengeful and exposing picture you want to make 600 copies of and a list of all the local community colleges tucked in your back pocket. What am I talking about? I’m talking about you putting on a nice pair of shoes, and throwing down with April.

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