Thursday, November 15, 2012

The Letter

Yeah, I wrote it.
And I addressed it
to you.
And I've said the things
I've wished
I could've.
Yeah, I wrote it.
About fucking time.

Yeah, I wrote it.
And there's no
going back,
not now, or ever.
One of these days,
I suppose,
you'll respond.
About fucking time.

Yeah, I wrote it.
And I won't regret it,
regardless.
And if I'm lucky
maybe later I'll think
I should've written
that fucking letter
sooner.

The Glory of the Fuck You,
it's a piece my friend
wrote once.
Fucking brilliant,
and just so you know:
I won't be taken alive.
And if I'm going down,
I'm going down swinging.

My heart is wide open
and my guns are blazing.

I will live, and I will love,
and this world and all of its shitty rules
can't fucking stop me.

2 comments:

Mary said...

Good.
Peace.

GracietheBum said...

The perfect amount of fucks. It feels cathardic. Thank you.