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  • RUSSELL

Words to a mirror

Will u or won't u be clearer I can not see what u depicting I don't like the picture u pitching u picked it..go figure the pixels are blemished and it all resembles a mess, I'm a mess a mosaic of massacres cracks in the glass make me look like a masochist and u draw the line but at this line of scrimmage I'm tackled for loss then forget my description a critic, that doesn't like critics I know-hypocritical confronting myself, all I hear is crickets and ribbits... I hate this exhibit this hate I exhibit is because I'm livid from living with friction and fiction and feminine differences distance and friendships I've lost, that fall to resistance my vision gets crippled I crack up and peer in the ripples my sweat starts to dribble then trickle then cycle- ice cycles reflection gets frigid I fidget I feel like I'm fucked up, fuck it, I'm finished forget it forget this too much weight that I bear, I am not fit for forgiveness my wrongs are like scriptures I've written I'm hungry, I eat whats forbidden so pride ends up bitten all I feel is tension defensive good riddens don't mention my limits I hate that u witnessed- this look! that looked like I swallowed a handful of lemons and crumbles when talking with women I'm downing a bottle of Guinness I drown when I'm swimming just give me a minute... I know I don't make any sense like proof with out evidence, I mean ever since I looked right in the mirror, my senses dispensed I'm numb, what I'm saying- I needed to vent put my hand on the mirror but there are no prints so now I'm convinced that I am not real, and I'm never content therefore loving myself will take longer than this words to the mirror...

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