The Verbal Ballet of two counter-culture queens,
Spins a web to concrete oversized humor flies.
Help! Help! Lady poetry has slit her wrists (again)
Over the dust that cries, and its ability to over analyze.
They aren't the only two thats worn through my thick front.
The sadly sick are sneaking sin in irritating instances.
In fact, the facts are fairly factual, and if I may be blunt...
Speaking your mind might not be polite in certain selfish circumstances.
The sugar coat evaporated. Quick, get another coat!
So we can mend the severred ends of those who slit their throats.
I am not so ignorant. Not deaf, blind or dead.
I know you've had your problems, mine screams in my head.
"You're too worthless to run over" She says. Her name is Stephanie.
See, someones always with me, and it's her that makes me lonely.
I'm sure you know "how much it hurts", I've known since I was twelve.
I'd cut to cope, but then she'd win, she'd love to see me hurt myself.
Apologies, Apologies. I find the good in all I can.
Truth is she talks most the time, and she's a better poet than I am.
She says, she thinks you just need new listening ears.
She says I should tell you I've got two good ones right here.
Don't be so quick to suck out all my reasons,
Or judge me over simple, pathetic petty treasons.
Tragic thoughts are made for tragic teenage minds.
Sympathy you will not get, from the Schizophrenic humor fly.
The verbal ballet of two counter-culture queens
Spins a web to concrete oversized humor flies.
These spiders cluck like chickens, "gossip, cluck, cluck, cluck."
I hope you can see to help yourself, with hands over your eyes.
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