I wear my scars everyday
on the inside and outside
and it seems like they won't disappear
it seems like they want to stay

because they only become bigger
by every time I get hurt
every time I'm getting offended
and no one seems to care enough

to make sure that I get rid of them
I just need someone
who'll kiss my scars
instead of laughing at them

Someone who will love me for who I am
every single day
so that they won't grow bigger
so that I can be happy

for once ~

I remember the night you swore to the god you don't believe in that you didn't love me anymore.
The way your brown eyes morphed into a deep pitch black.
Blacker that our sorrowful souls combined.
I didn't think I'd ever hear those words.
But they crawled from my ears into my barely beating heart.
Stabbing every inch of it, naturally tearing it apart.
You see, we could have had it all but, the the god forsaken demons came back.
They crawled back into your mind..
and filled it like the the tears filling my small round eyes.
I almost drowned in the ocean of emotion.
You were no longer my lifeline.
And you swear you're fine.
Oh how you repeat it, that you're getting by.
I write and write every miserable thought.
My pages filling up like the darkness filled the sky as the days turned into nights.
Woe is me, woe is me.
I repeat those words so miserably.
The thoughts of losing the only thing I had choked me.
The thoughts wrapped their evil around my neck.
But the noose I'm making is going to be a lot tighter.
As my love grew deeper, my heart grew lighter.
Losing feeling, losing it's rhythm.
I wrote and wrote until I ran out of ink.
Now I'll make my way to the bathroom sink.
I'll peck and scratch at my skin.
I'll peck and scratch at the thoughts that I think.
My black ballpoint pen became my red ballpoint pen.
And I now continue to write again.
Eventually I'll run out of pages.
Oh my soft tan skin will make a beautiful canvas.
I ask and ask if you're absolutely certain that you don't need me.
And the answer remains the same.
You don't need me.
You don't need this.
So I scrapped together every memory, every kiss.
Oh the sweet bliss of pretending they stayed in place.
My love.
But the thing is, you're not mine.
Love.

Okay that's it
I finally quit
I've had my years of fun

I've got exercise
Clear in my sights
Fat will soon be on the run

Had a problem in
Getting in the gym
The doors won't fit my **** double wide

So in disgrace
I plaster my face
On the window to watch the skinny's inside

In my depressed state
I went and ate
Another meal served up for four

One thing I like
About the places I dine
There's always room in and out the door

Then guilt overwhelms
Like a hellhound
As I was in the middle of my desert

It could have come sooner than this
And for that I am blessed
It could have come during my last course

Here I am back in my boat
Without a paddle to row
My only form of exercise

But before it's to late
I toss a little more dirt on my grave
With another order of double fries

With my meal out of the way
I go back to the start of the day
Which seems to be sunnier than ever

I decide to go for a jog
Before all my arteries clog
Maybe though I'll wait for better weather

........................................................­........

Here we are a new day
This is the earliest I've ever been late
You know what they say about catching the worm

I stop to eat my worm on the way
IHOP  double stack pancakes
Will that worm never learn

The only exercise these days
Is a fork in my face
If this were the Olympics I'd win a prize

I wonder if this is considered a sport
The reaching of maple syrup
And wouldn't squeezing the bottle also be exercise

I'll try tomorrow again
To reign myself in
One of these days it's bound to catch

I'll look to the future in life
Instead of behind
Then at least I won't have to look at my fat...

First there is the prep.
The roommate.
Wearing salmon colored pants.  
He has Shaggy from ****** Doo
On his left thigh.
The alcoholic.
She has a drinking problem.
She is in denial of her drinking problem.
She hangs out with the loners.
The loners.
Unkempt, unattractive and fat in all the wrong places.
The blond looks like Tom Petty.
The one with dark hair, glasses and braces
They live next door.
Living together but segregated. 
Wild cards.
All of us.

©Gambit '13