deepundergroundpoetry.com

Curiosity Killed The --

Fuck cats, fuck drugs, fuck not having enough drugs, fuck spending money on drugs, fuck being a drug addict, fuck loving drugs and them not loving you back. Fuck girls, fuck girls who fuck over girls who fuck girls, did that make sense? Fuck making sense. Fuck you, fuck this and fuck everything we thought we had. I think we really are running out of blood, fuck Atlantis and all your pathetic hotel prayers.

Fuck old friends, the ones you should’ve never let back in because they only let you down again. Fuck more failed moving plans. Fuck everything, especially boxes with tiny little openings. Fuck Christmas morning, I’ve always unwrapped my presents a day early. Or is today my birthday? Fuck my birthday, fuck your birthday, fuck our birthday. Fuck birthdays. “I’ll cough on a baby, I don’t care.” Fuck remembering.

I’m sitting in this room surrounded by boxes, some are unopened while others I’ve torn apart. You know what they say about the one who was killed by curiosity, maybe that should tell us something. But then again, do we ever heed to warnings? If we did, maybe we’d have a vein or two left but we both know we don’t. I’ve grown tired of these metaphors.

I think I know what my problem is.. every time I tell you that I hate cats, that’s not what I mean. What I mean is, I love them too much and I don’t want to keep missing their stupid little paws. You know? I don’t want to miss the space they take up in my bed or seeing their toothbrush next to mine in the morning. I miss the purring. Although, now that I think about it, they have been known to scratch my fucking furniture. Did I accidentally turn a metaphor into a different metaphor? Fuck, I’m not even sure what I’m talking about anymore. I’m about to start shoving cats into boxes and leaving them outside like Oliver, but without any company.

I wish I could clean my mind the way I clean this apartment-- obsessively and over-excessively. All of this thinking is making me feel far too sober, fuck sobriety. Where’d my veins go? It appears as if I’m losing another one and I really hope I’ve got another left. I’m done being a drug addict, problem is I’m just not done with the drugs yet.

   Paradoxes,
      it’s complicated.
         Fuck the cats again, I hate cats.
Written by WikipediaJunkie
Published | Edited 6th Jun 2014
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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