My body's mad at me, it's sad to see my whole anatomy has become a complete catastrophe, and factually it's practically a tragedy, I'm an addict isn't that tragic I've got a habit of acting erratic, ecstatic, plus sometimes charismatic, add in psychopathic while your at it, equals out to problematic, a creation in this word equation, or just another deviation from my emotional dedication, feel the sensations from frustration caused by a hesitation of any instant gratification, this situational infatuation with an idea of a damnation more realistic than my entire imagination, my feelings now spilling have got my blood chilling and although it's not thrilling I'm dealing with my heart you've been stealing and slowly healing from the relationship killing you've been fulfilling, appealing your decisions is my number one position, did I mention my suspicion of your much needed impending intervention, the attention and definition to every detail, no pretension when I write I'm usually just going through hell, no retreat I'll stay and fight, kick, bite, curse, scream and yell, not so well with an epic fail, no saving grace, no redemption just laid to waste and almost erased, I've retraced my steps on the road it took to get here, or get there or get wherever it is your at or wherever it is you have gotten to, a place of old or some place new, a real life rerun or a first time view, a first time vision of the incision you've cut into life, only this little incision isn't done with a knife, these metaphoric and somewhat historical moments in time which seem to never arrive fast and then suddenly are the past, nothing lasts it's a classic update dealing with fate and I hate when time gets so irate and seems to run so quick it almost certainly should be a crime, I mean how many moments have you had in the amount of factual time took to read each historic line in this metaphorically speaking timeless rhyme of mine.

© Xplicit Kontent