Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Anger and a Bag of Chips

So, so angry.
This feeling in the pit
of my stomach eating me alive.

This was you!
How could you make me feel this way
How... How?
Pitiful me.

The cards were always in your hands
And the dice were heavy on that side
You played it so well
I never heard them say 'check'

It's plastered all over the world
What we are not
And you are now
Without me and with her

Don't think I don't know
Because it's reflected in your eyes
And that, my dear,
was your one mistake.

This anger will be gone before long
As will this pitiful trace
I don't need cards to tell me that
and you're nothing to me.


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