Friday, March 30, 2012

Made from My Own Tears

I am nothing if not a puddle of my own tears
Freeze dried, built up, and modelled after me
A walking imitation of the saddest moments
In my short and weary life

Damn, I love being pure concentrated sadness
Makes me a carefree, footloose, and without a fuck to give
Isn't that the description of the wild teenage youth
Without the weeping sorrowful self indulgence

Because all my tears have been removed
And put to better use as kidneys and spleens
No need to weep tears that don't matter
They are a part of who I am
Unlike the fucks I have given away

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