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    Closer to the End

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      *I wrote this when I was 18 or 19. Bear that in mind when reading.

      I hope you hurry

      Before I piss my pants.

      Oh shit!

      I messed up

      And missed my chance.

      I didn't realize it would be like this.

      I still can't see

      Why it turned out like it did.

      I've scattered my ashes and shed my tears,

      Tattered my clothes and said my fears

      To the one who made me trust her,

      The one that said she loved me

      While she said fuck you

      To the world she ran through

      And stole my innocence in return

      And rekindled a swindled heart in turn.

      Did she ever feel the way it burned,

      My pain disguising itself

      To hide the help I headed for

      And deride the dead deeds done no more.

      I know no noble notions.

      I am facing unforetold fears.

      I am swimming among oceans of pass-me-by years.

      I wish I would wash away the way it was

      And go back to a time

      When I wasn't living for lust.

      My mind is a torment I represent.

      It tells me my heart is no longer a must.

      Scratch that.

      Erase the trust.

      Don't fret or fuss

      Over bullshit stuff.

      It's only there to lead you down,

      Gone to a hurt of personal hell,

      A sin within that you can't foretell

      To a teller trying to sell her soul for pennies.

      My mind is gone.

      I've had it off more than I've had it on.

      My blind eye is drawn to envy.

      I don't sell it,

      But I smell it,

      And I felt it,

      All the bullshit that we see.

      I can never tell

      What all is well,

      But it's not so well for me.

      I'm dead inside,

      Deep inside,

      Unable to see the selfish side.

      Don't set me

      A pretty petty

      Weak and weary

      Shitty gritty

      Greeting from beyond.

      I walk a wild and worn out path

      Past a person impersonating

      The idiosyncratic psychopathic personalities

      Of a drastic spastic penalty

      Purged on people finding very little love

      In an uncaring world of hate undebatable.

      There is no comfort zone in a broken home.

      Don't you hear my god **** tone?

      I can't lend a loan

      From what's not my own.

      I move slow, alone

      And fast afraid.

      We got it made

      For the few moments we stayed

      And played away

      So the sour could say

      Curses against the day

      But wouldn't go away

      And wanted to make us pay

      With money we couldn't raise

      As forced out slaves.

      I wish I wasn't so fuckin sober so often.

      I need some shit to ease my constant coughin’.

      I'll be in a coffin sooner than I wanna be

      If I don't get some shit to help me see

      The struggles I'm gonna see.

      I'm altering the free things

      That are here for us all.

      Life is a strife to let you ignore the fall.

      I am an underachiever,

      A false believer.

      I am never home to receive my calls.

      I'm sure we could reach a preacher to deceive us all.

      Thank you for not thinking of me.

      Remember the mind-bender

      Beginning from me.

      I'm bathing in a taking

      That's sickening me,

      Making me drunk

      On hellhole telltale tolerances

      Of habits remaining

      In the morning sun's appearance.

      I'm shaking shitfaced shallow showoffs

      And igniting the ticking time bomb about to blow off

      I'm dead inside,

      Deep inside,

      Unable to see the selfish side.

      Don't set me

      A pretty petty

      Weak and weary

      Shitty gritty

      Greeting from beyond.

      I walk a wild and worn out path

      Past a person impersonating

      The idiosyncratic psychopathic personalities

      Of a drastic spastic penalty

      Purged on people finding very little love

      In an uncaring world of hate undebatable.

      Say you're sorry

      For what you've done.

      We lost the fun

      We thought we had.

      It all went bad

      When we sunk to sad.

      It makes me glad

      To see my enemies mad

      Cuz I don't give a fuck.

      The game is up.

      My name is stuck

      On some absent luck.

      I don't get a suck.

      Go suck a rock.

      You can't suck my cock.

      I never knocked her off.

      The shit she's got

      Is just the flu.

      I never penetrated through

      The thickass slip

      Of her in between the pussylips.

      Don't talk like a little kid.

      I know the bad shit you did.

      It ain't hid from me.

      I'm running a race

      To hide this face,

      But she don't run me.

      I gotta ride

      Far from pride

      And be alive inside

      And get powered past her bitching.

      She best not make a sound.

      I want only silence.

      I prayed it wouldn't lead to violence.

      But regrets forget the shit I get

      From the times she tried to beat me down.

      I sent her the center of my being.

      She fucked it up and slammed it down,

      And she's repeating.

      The outstretched hand

      From this broken man

      Was caught bleeding.

      She's still feeding into the lies she told me.

      I despise her more mostly.

      Fuck her for her fastly forwarding fronts

      Of deceit and corruption.

      I will corrupt her confusion.

      The contusion I got with my concussion

      Is the newest point of our discussion mentioned.

      I don't believe her true intentions.

      I'm dead inside,

      Deep inside,

      Unable to see the selfish side.

      Don't set me

      A pretty petty

      Weak and weary

      Shitty gritty

      Greeting from beyond.

      I walk a wild and worn out path

      Past a person impersonating

      The idiosyncratic psychopathic personalities

      Of a drastic spastic penalty

      Purged on people finding very little love

      In an uncaring world of hate undebatable.

      I'm so dead inside,

      Not as deep inside,

      That I can't at least sometimes see my selfish side.

      Just don't set me

      Any pretty petty

      Weak and weary

      Shitty gritty

      Greetings.

      I walk on a wild and worn out road,

      Never knowing what's owed.

      I'm dead inside,

      Deep inside,

      Unable to see the selfish side.

      Don't set me

      A pretty petty

      Weak and weary

      Shitty gritty

      Greeting from beyond.

      I walk a wild and worn out path

      Past a person
    impersonating

      The idiosyncratic psychopathic personalities

      Of a drastic spastic penalty

      Purged on people finding very little love

      In an uncaring world of hate undebatable.

      If you enjoyed this, feel free to connect with the author:

      Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/thepageofauthorjasonwallace/

      Twitter: @authorjwallace

     
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