life's a bitch. and death is a bastard.
i sit here to write this poem.
i write line after line.
then i erase line after line.... nothing ever good enough in my eyes.
always expecting more of my self.
and how magicly i should receive more from others... so foolishly i believe.
nothing is ever give in this life. only if your the one giving.
every thing else must be taken.
work tell the flesh that covers ur britle bone has become rough and lethery with age and experince.
then take what u feel you have earned. and if u can not take it then you do not deserve to have it.
however love warmth all the feelings you get with that person u call a girlfriend or boyfriend or wife or husband.... that can not be taken only given.
such is the unfairness of life.
for one can give and give for an eternaty. and yet receive nothing but shatterd hopes and icey rejection. and firey hatred for once own flaws.
life is a bitch and death is a bastard.
( i know this seriously sucks but its all i got and its been awhile.)