Tag Archives: hurt

Today I feel angry, Here’s the man who helped me

My hero, Fred Rogers

Rest in Peace neighbor


Judas

The distance you crossed with your pen,

word by word, line by line.

you only ever saw in me

a paper concubine

*

In despair you lifted me up,

healing words of solace

one moment you would comfort me

then you would just transgress

*

Ghost friend that never existed.

things felt strangely amiss.

actions don’t meet the words you said.

you blew a fatal kiss

*

Your prowess with the written word,

can’t match your cunning tongue

your nose pointed up in the air

you are a charlatan.

*

Flummery you speak to lost girls,

you saw me as a whore,

a dullard, just leagues beneath you

a girl you could abhor.

*

Mirrored flaws, becoming each one.

so I’d feel empathy,

then you’d slink into the shadows

used… vulnerability.

*

Gather your gold pieces in hand

pleasure reading my pain.

so unless I am mistaken

don’t, come back again.


Time For a Good Ole Book Burning on the Village Green

Shel Silverstein is hands down one of the best children’s authors ever.  I own just about everything he’s done in print; hard copy.   And I’m fairly certain that when my Little Debbie goggles wear off, the book will remain one of my favorites.

In light of the recent events of my train wreck love-life, I recently re-read “The Giving Tree.”

…..

Can I just say that I HATE that tree.

“Take my apples.”

oh just plunder all my assets and leave me naked in the forest, boy.

“…you may cut off  my branches….”

Take a chainsaw to my limbs and watch the sap run down as I bleed in agony….

“Cut down my trunk….”

Fuck me up the ass and leave me nothing but a stump for you to take a shit on…….

but I’ll still love you boy.

……

and then the tree waits and waits like a good empathic tree with no self-esteem does, and pretends to be happy being a used up stump.  and in the end ” the boy” comes back when he’s done using all the whores and he’s old and can’t fuck anymore and sits on the stump of a tree he’s used.   because she has no self-worth and wasted the best years of her life pining (no pun intended) for a boy who never loved her back.

The classic un-requited love story?

No, the classic romanticized portrayal of an EMPATH, DOORMAT FUCKED UP WOMAN, POSING AS A TREE

I dunno, this post could be coming from a distorted perceptual lens generated by marked glucose spikes from me consuming  a rather largish bag of M&M’s for lunch today and a couple of King-sized candy bars for dinner last night mixed with a Little Debbie cake.  It’s the Little Debbie goggles isn’t it.  Or is it just another angry rant about getting conned by a sexual sadist narcissist with sociopathic tendencies.  Or do I just have an axe to grind with trees.

Someone either pass me the kerosene and a match or give me another fucking Little Debbie cake already.


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