Okay, so my earlier post was just rambling to keep me from writing about what was really on my mind. I don’t know how blunt I can be online, and I’m not too sure I want to test all the limits at this early juncture.
So, in an effort to express these hot, itchy, pent-up emotions, I started a post on Facebook that began to rhyme as soon as the words fell out of my head. Then, praise all the heavenly host, I actually read it again after I felt that I had expressed everything I wanted to say.
Yikes! I mean, I know I can write bad poetry, but this was bad attack poetry. This was bad pointed attack poetry. This was bad pointed attack poetry that I was about to post on a social media site!
I felt as though my spleen had turned into an unripened grapefruit and I tasted the sour bile in my mouth just thinking about the sin I was about to commit.
And the worst part about it? It felt good writing it! It was cathartic! And it was horribly regressive. It took me back to those dark days of highschool wherein I pined after guys who would never notice me, where I wrote all my love poems in a black spiral notebook of all things clichéd. It was awful.
Anyhow, crisis averted. The poem has been consigned to the land of the BACKSPACE key, it’s rhymes and rhythm lost to history, making the world safer for the likes of you – and for the likes of me.