I contribute nothing

kinda like being trapped in the sun
kinda like being the kid at the ballgame outsides of the fence
and no ice cream cone.

staring at that ice cream cone
staring at the ice cream cone
i’m staring at that ice cream cone and just one kinda old guy is staring at my boobs.

i tuck in my shirt.
no one my age asks me out.
old news
i’m old news and no one my age asks me out

and then there’s this uppity cream-clothed wearing bitch sparkling in the sunshine
and smiling
just smiling.and not a care in the world and I look at her googling her vacation spots and talking skis and lifts and soft leather pumps and I thinkn’ bout love and how
the bible says to love everyone
even the ones who are sick and i look over at her and smile and she frowns.
ugly upper lip movements to her nose and she turns up her nose and rolls a little eye and goes back to the guy
who gives her a hug

for some reason i typed gun because the g and u are first and that’s usually how i write and it woulda been guh but turned out like gun bc if you write a g and a u then naturally your fingers or your brain finishes with a n.

I wish I had a gun.
But then you need all those permits sand papers and then locks and boxes and everybody says oh no Stacy that’s the worst idea ever and then you really need to shoot somebody and you have to lug out your box and find the key for the lock and then haul the thing out and figure out how to use it and then hold it releasing safety and by that time the person is very far away or either has already killed you dead and what’s the point anyway criminals don’t have boxes and papers and stuff like that so what’s the point.

I bought a knife. A knife is very personal (they say) and can dmake you feel personal oh so personal and now i’m tired of sharing you said share doctor i share. and i’m itchy.

Advertisements

2nd poem to my stalker, all the way from Brazil

I want you to get the something you came for.
Happiness?
I don’t care anymore.
You won’t be able to carry it home anymore oh
So intellectual guess what?
I don’t give a shit anymore.

I don’t care if ur following my phone
Writing me poems
Making things harder for this around me
You can try to convince me that I’m going crazy… Guess what

I know I’m not.
And I LITERALLY dont give a FUCK what u do u could walk in my house and chop me up into little pieces and I’d be like
yup, that’s cool.

It’s not that I want to die, but if I did, so what? I’m not scared of you.

And I’m not crazy.

So go ahead, try your best, come in daddy give it too me hard
Oh really? U think it’s fun?
I think it’s funner.
Let’s do this shit.
Tonight.