Cherry blossom fallout
And I'm standing with red crap all over me
Hating the spring
With it's overstated hints of procreation
All trying to spite my need
To distance myself from sexuality
Black-clad tarts
Who don't know the meanings
Of what they're pretending to portray
Attempt to rub themselves all over me
And it makes me ill
At an earlier time in my life
I might have allowed myself to use thier bodies
For the evolution of personal experiance
And then discarded them
Like the empty soda cans that often decorate my floorboards
But I've built up enough emotional debt
And I no longer have the patience
To tolerate the terminally stupid
Which leads me to a dilemma
You see
I don't know how to let someone down gently
And I don't want to lower thier self-esteem
Anymore then it already obviously is
After all
Why else would they blindly throw themselves at me
I don't like hurting people either
I've done that more often then I care in this life
And I'm tired from the guilt I already carry
In my backpack from it
~Matt Magus
I've just thought about this poem for a moment, and it seems to me that it makes me sound awefully selfish. It makes me worry even more that I might actually be as selfish as this poem sounds to my mind. It bothers me greatly, and I don't think I could actually read this in public anyway, because it would be all too obvious who the "black-clad tart" is. BAH....
