deepundergroundpoetry.com
Scathing Review
A young girl cried at the sight of
of, of
A man walked down the street beside himself
and himself
and her mother lashed out in light of
of, of
the fuming canister on my shoulders
I've gotta be sick right?
If it wasn't for me they'd be happier tonight
but, there's nerve gas in my neck
I struggle to breathe and these panic attacks leave me gasping for air!
Panic attacks for me are public panic
I can't be a bomb and a man, in control and in love, I just wanted someone to care!
I'm mad at myself and I feel like I'm going to collapse into nothing
I don't have the fame to be a dying star
I'm the crazy teenage boy I can't get away from, you've at least grown into something
I hate that I'm not able to grow as far
and these children still laugh in my head
like the nozzle, the dial, hissing
"You'll be forgotten again, go suck a gun, swallow the lead."
Just explode already you don't know what you're missing!
They called me Tom the Bomb, they thought it was a gas
I hated the name, and what it means in the genes
the men all have the temper like an I.E.D they've got IED
attacking their hearts, I watched it kill their marriages, threaten their lives!
I said to myself innumerable times, "I'll be the difference, it won't be me."
I hurt my friend. I loved my friend and I put the neck of that relationship to a blade
I put my foot on the back and pressed until it couldn't go ahead
I loved someone and I couldn't step back for a second to put down the spade
out of the trenches, still digging my own grave, this will better survive if it's dead
but I can count the people I hate on one hand, and like all things in my life that build until they burst
I start at the wrong end and crush it under my focus, I look at my shaking hands and say, "Me first."
of, of
A man walked down the street beside himself
and himself
and her mother lashed out in light of
of, of
the fuming canister on my shoulders
I've gotta be sick right?
If it wasn't for me they'd be happier tonight
but, there's nerve gas in my neck
I struggle to breathe and these panic attacks leave me gasping for air!
Panic attacks for me are public panic
I can't be a bomb and a man, in control and in love, I just wanted someone to care!
I'm mad at myself and I feel like I'm going to collapse into nothing
I don't have the fame to be a dying star
I'm the crazy teenage boy I can't get away from, you've at least grown into something
I hate that I'm not able to grow as far
and these children still laugh in my head
like the nozzle, the dial, hissing
"You'll be forgotten again, go suck a gun, swallow the lead."
Just explode already you don't know what you're missing!
They called me Tom the Bomb, they thought it was a gas
I hated the name, and what it means in the genes
the men all have the temper like an I.E.D they've got IED
attacking their hearts, I watched it kill their marriages, threaten their lives!
I said to myself innumerable times, "I'll be the difference, it won't be me."
I hurt my friend. I loved my friend and I put the neck of that relationship to a blade
I put my foot on the back and pressed until it couldn't go ahead
I loved someone and I couldn't step back for a second to put down the spade
out of the trenches, still digging my own grave, this will better survive if it's dead
but I can count the people I hate on one hand, and like all things in my life that build until they burst
I start at the wrong end and crush it under my focus, I look at my shaking hands and say, "Me first."
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