Whiskey Rocks

finally
another worthless fucking poem
about throwing in the towel
locked in a world infinitely bound by
"He's" and "She's"
they both say that it's my
defeatist attitude
that makes me lose my brain
every full moon or so
they say, "look on the bright side"
i say, "fuck you, faggot."

it doesn't make sense
every verbally obese
rhetorical right hook
that i throw
at my closest friends
makes my heart
sink so deep into
my chest, it feels
like it has stopped beating

what bright side?
is it the rape and murder?
is it the world perpetually marked
by fear and pain?
is it the hopelessness
of doing anything?

fuck your bright side
and your constant
evasion of reality

i'll take another whiskey-rocks