shes too much of what I love
cuz what I love is real fucked up
I like sex and I like drugs
and I like girls best who act real tough
and I like art and I like pain
and broken hearts and pure disdain
and I like truth, hidden by lies
while I peruse her pretty eyes
I like breasts and parted thighs
that steal breath till I might die
I like the edge of sanity
so I don’t regret that shes bad to me
I like the hunt, the evil chase
I think its fun when people break
I like confusion and mystery
and I like being used for my misery
I must like anger. I must like hurt
cuz I always answer, when she calls me dirt
and must like violence, the silent type
cuz I watch her smiling when things aren’t right
I like her selling herself and my pride
while I am telling everyone she must be my bride
and I like her attacking my mind and my health
while I pretend badly that I’m not in hell
and I like the moment my hope broke and I fell
I have to own hopeless and homeless
I think of nothing else
she slapped me so well that I cracked and fell
I pray, asking for help, that I may stay,
basking in hell
I’m perplexed, obsessed, in my worthless brain
like I’m on a quest to hurt till insane
I like to stare at how life is unfair
how I dared to be there, where she doesn’t care
she knows me and owns me, so very well
she erodes me and blows me
away till this shell of my former self
is all that’s left, is all I am
an infested stench afoul-smelling vaporous
laborious, heinous, ghost of a man
there’s a demon banshee, screaming in my head
singing so badly, I wish I were dead
since she broke my heart
and I went back, to my house and home
returned to my lonely art
and wrote this lousy poem
shes too much of what I love cuz what I love
is real fucked up