to all you self-serving, comment-whoring fuckers.
stop it.
stop putting yourself
in my place
(we can't share it)
stop taking my memories
and labeling them yours
(your writing is illegible)
stop claiming you understand
these misarranged arrangements
(you have no empathy)
stop putting your name
on my reluctant lips
(i've never spoken to you)
stop saying you've been
everywhere my footsteps lie
(no one followed me here)
stop multiplying
stop making chains of one another
beating paths to each and every
fuck-you suicide note
and anti-social tendency
posted in rapid-fire succession
stop getting each other off
all over the place
with your bitter-torment screennames
and your blood-dripping poem titles
(oh, but it tastes so good
and everyone will notice your fangs)
go ahead
and wrap yourselves
in your precious black velvet
and crimson satin
and make small-talk with the
demons in the night,
telling your scar-noted stories
over and over again
to an audience who will fawn over you
like you want.
a really satisfying ego-fuck.
go ahead.
i don't give a shit.
but stop masturbating here
and stay away from my poems.
Copyright 2005 doll on the rag
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