deepundergroundpoetry.com

Angry Out

Wash the brain. Wash the brain. I've got to get this stuff off of my brain. � � � � �
No one can tell me its different. Not in here, where a thousand Velcro strips hold together the broken truths of your sob story. Spare me! �And this- My valid perception of your trivial existence seems to only intensify your angry reaction as you break down into tiny, color-coded �■blocks■ �of the hexadecimal rainbow. Did I made out like a bandit? �Or did I just fall for whatever party trick you pulled out of your pants that night? Pointless questions for which there are no answers. � �
And so it fades in away ��
Off into some vague electricity. Nothing now but static.. . �. ��. � �. � �. The static of your brainwave frequencies poisoned by the television's lies. �A hollow head has no ability to think for itself. � � � � � � � �
Dead in your dream. Right inside my truth. The thick air is breaking me apart. Reaction breaks me into fractions. Pieces of me are taken out of this space and time and randomly placed near the center of hell, where I revolve around your faded smile and all the while, my past is catching up with me and your insecurities are ending you. Everything decays in this place. � � � � � �
Hold on tight 'cause it's ready to blow . . .
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B O O M ! � �
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. . . Like a gun, I'm hurling obscenities and aiming right for your face. No time to waste! This is how it's going down. �Insanity is my plague and you gave it to me. �
So dig a hole, try to know. �
Let me see what your eyes take in as absolute. � � � � �
Swallow your pride. No! Fuck your pride... The way you fucked me. � � � �
Come and get your hard-loss handshake. And better luck next time motherfucker. � � �
I SAID IT!