Happy Birthday, Peen Futch.
Forgo the candles,
Just dig me a hole.
Forgo the presents, the well wishes and party,
And give me that which I’ve earned and deserve,
Forget me.
Release me from the chains inside your mind that bind me to that which exists because this has to be better than that which is without me,
Right?
This birthday song’s about another year gone by without a single righted wrong,
Another calendar in the trash with the same rash personality,
Another 12 months of stunted growth,
Over 300 days of waking up to the sound of my own heart shrieking,
A 27th tally on the board for the count I’m keeping,
One mark for every year I wish I could’ve gone without.
I was wrong to ever doubt
That I could loathe myself as much
as I’ve learned to loathe Bukowski,
Hank and I have more in common than not.
Link 1: https://old.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/rncr2s/causa_mortis/hpudyz1/?context=3 Link 2: https://old.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/rmzo0a/obsessive_compulsive/hppjqrb/?context=3
Posted Jan 5, 2022, 1:46 AM UTC
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