This is my poem entitled fuck this bullshit Fuck this bullshit
Fuck feeling shitty
Fuck feeling like you're hard to love
And like someone loves you but you're still thinking about the people who don't
Fuck thinking about how you're not that great, actually
You haven't learned enough
You haven't practiced enough
You're really not very good
Maybe you have your moments
But those are the lies
The failures are the truths
and you're too tired to do better
Fuck this bullshit
Fuck the way you don't have any close friends
You have someone who loves you and you're still thinking about how that's not enough
That should be enough. More than enough. It should fill you up that even one person does, and really, two, maybe three people do
I mean really love you, not just like people who are loving love the world, but love you. Two. I think it's two.
And your standards aren't very high for counting more, but there's a big gap between those two, maybe three, it's hard to say, and the rest
Those people who tolerate you
You think
Fuck those thoughts. Maybe they aren't true
You know, it's not very reassuring to hear that people aren't thinking about you.
Fuck thinking that people who might think they love you just think that because you haven't failed them yet, but you will and then they'll stop.
There's the two or maybe three who have seen you fail them, still loved you, and been able to see you not fail them. And you know you'll go on failing them, but they won't stop loving you
Also fuck this bullshit that is physical pain
That's some bullshit that needs to get fucked
Fuck this bullshit that is how you're mediocre you're not enough, but you think you're the shit and you think you're unworthy shit
Fuck how you thought the meds were working to keep this bullshit away, but now it seems like they're not
