Fed Up and Tired

my mind is gone,
my body has moved on,
i am tired and weak,
unable to keep,
my head up to see,
me, my reflection,
no protection,
my walls are left down,
my voice brings out no sound.
i have fought for too long...
my life just became a sad song,
hitting the bong, to keep the peace,
or at least, thats what i believe.
no chance for living long,
doing everything completely wrong,
when will i learn,
my back is beginning to burn,
but i never turn,
i hope that pain will keep me, take me, kill me.
why can't it just be,
why can't i live life easy...
why are things so confusing,
i keep not noticing the bruising,
the smell of chronic is the only thing soothing...
only thing amusing...
i can't keep on this trail,
it is clear that i will fail,
my face goes pale,
eyes go white,
i can't fight,
i sit and loose my sight...
i thought i was right,
i was at my height,
and the dropped,
everything stopped,
my life just plopped,
to the bottom, the low,
does anyone know,
does it really show,
no,
i hide it well,
iving in hell...
you come to me now...
start talking shit,
what the fuck...
you've had much luck,
till now,
no way no how,
i won't take that shit no more,
i open your car door,
throw you on the fucking floor,
then the thunder roars,
and the rain pours.
pulling out my blade,
my conscience begins to fade,
it’s you i hate.
i hate me, i hate you,
so don't talk shit to me fool.
i threw off my coat,
and go for your throat.
don't think i won't.
i get you in lock,
then grab a rock,
smash it up against your dome,
till you blood comes out chrome,
this is my home,
torturing you, and reciting this poem.
you are unconscious,
but i am still cautious,
i tie you up,
really start to not give a fuck...
i cut you up and took a lung,
opened your mouth and cut out your tongue,
piece by piece,
you became my masterpiece,
then i left, with the sounds of the police...
you are dead
and i am fed.
i got what i needed for now,
but how...
how long
will i need that hit off my bong,
that sudden rush,
of turning your body to slush.
i can't live anymore,
there’s nothing in life,
but whores, and creeps,
which is slowly ending up to be this bitch,
me,
i'm unmistakably, going crazy at your mercy
i am tired, wired,
and then the shot is fired.
my body falls to the floor,
my blood begins to pour
and soar
to you, my God in heaven,
bulleted me seven.
this must be heaven!

----- by Gabrielle

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