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Lost Words
August 30, 2014
Words get twisted with my own tornado of emotions.
With you arguments are as common as the amount of weed smoked in your system.
I told you that trust was a big factor and you played it like a string on my own pity violin.
Maybe the weed didnt kill your brain cells, it killed your heart.
With you your jokes are your reality, they let you numb your pain while causing pain in another person. Your hobby to crack a smile consumes your life, you said I needed to grow up and face my problems, but I'm not the one who's trying to make a mime laugh with a broken puppet.
© Roumany P., St. Paul, MN
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