I am fucking finished.
Finished with your excuses,
and your matching and well thought out words…
bullshit and excuses not worthy of the air they drift on
or the paper you dirtied and disfigured to jot them down.
You are the harbinger of destruction.
Ravaging pure and honest thought,
morality and motivation,
because it’s easier to talk, than to do…
the same old words of another lazy fuck looking to avoid responsibility for what they’ve done to themselves,
needing to blame everyone else for your short comings.
You are sad,……… because see it’s this simple:
Put the death down,
take a fucking walk.
Make a change,
do more than just fucking talk,… I’m not buying what your kinds selling anymore.
I’ve raped health to become the ideal,
I’ve gone well past arrhythmias,
and black outs just to feel….
beautiful for five fucking minutes.
Don’t tell me how hard it is,
don’t tell me shit
My own personal response to some who exist in my life, and in this world who love to pass the buck. If you’re offended, that’s your fault, this is not directed at you, but chances are if you became offended, there may be some truth to your own personal appraisal which resulted in such thinking. Consequently, this is directed at the brain worm I have experienced eating through my cerebellum as of late, after the infection started by someone who I know and used to look up to as a genius role model. I hate excuses without a plan or culpability.