PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Would you like to see how fast I can whip out my tongue and curse you for how childish you've become for a man of your age? Would you like to see how much time it takes for me to pack up and leave because I know that man inside of you would start crying. Everything you've worked for is about to run out on you and we don't give fuck.



Maybe if you hadn't raised your voice to such outlandish tones I would stop crying at night and mom would think more about what's she's about to do to this family.



Splitting all of this at the seams is what we need because being at each other's throats is only making us sicker and we are throwing up all of our emotions all over the house so everyone can see the god damned insecurities that have been churning up inside of us for all of this time. I think we need to stop making a mess because all of this shit is really starting to smell and I don't want to clean up after you anymore.



I'm really tired of following behind you trying to make you happy when you turn to look and see if I'm really the daughter you want, but threatening me around every corner with that razor sharp switchblade isn't they way to do things because one day I'll be swift and jab the point of that knife right through your hips. You'll spit out every emotion you have coated in crimson and we'll be standing over you finaly happy with what we've accomplished because you'll be gone and dinner won't be so hard to get through.