Thread: Crimes of Passion.

I usually write what I feel about
I think deeply
With no essentials forming in my mind
Nothing reaching my hand

Anything inside impacts
On this piece of paper
…I always focus what I want to write about
Is it just right? Are there any intellectual perplexes?

I seldom get an honest opinion.

Nonetheless, it’s you who is my grisly perturb.

Well unaware of the fact that
Exhorting through my never ending imperfections,
I strive to make a difference; to be acceptable.

Impulsiveness, humiliation, intense jealousy, dead cold…
Been there, done that, seen it, experienced it all.

All Crimes of passion.
Hate, rage, suicidal love, anything that comes up in your mind,
I’ve grown disdainful towards them all.

I have no desire to continue on like this,
I don’t have any regrets to my position.
I am, in fact, in a way, thankful to the subsequent suffering;
Or else I wouldn’t have this wisdom.

And mind you, love in my mind, in this perpetual journey is
En effet, an understatement.

Let me be selfish for myself once again,
Let me leave you to a better future,
Not with me, but with an individual you are well aware of.

Whether or not it is amusing,
I shall end this abruptly,
And with these last three words,

I Bid Thee Farewell.