Drunk again. Alone
And I don’t even like vodka don’t you know?
But hey, there was this boy, and right now I can’t remember his face
Or his sweet song.
But, I know come morning,
He will be back in my head, breaking my heart,
Killing me slowly, once again.
I sometimes think,
Your heart breaks the day you meet that One,
And you freely hand to them,
One equally measured half of You,
Ruled out and sliced with a guillotine,
Maybe you don’t notice it’s gone,
Cause they’re in your house, and in your head,
In your dreams and in your bed.
Till they leave and then you feel it
Really feel it.
So then comes the day you decide,
F**k it, and,
You do the same to someone else
And the girls in the corridors call you a slut,
And you have to face this poor boy’s eyes every day at school,
And you wish you could love him, cause,
One text from you would brighten up his day,
And a smile would light up his life,
But.
You are still hurting and to smile would kill you.
So you drink too much, and write some words,
And in the end they are meaningless, filled with useless conjunctions,
Meaningless juxtaposition and lack of syntax.
You forget how to spell, and your fingers are heavy on the keys,
But hey, its Word, they spell check this s**t right?
Amy Carmichael
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/they-spell-check-this-s-t-right/
