Another Untitled Poem

There's always one of them around,
Obnoxious and loud,
Digging her nails deep down into my skull.
An angry lover; a sad, forgotten angel.

I just need to keep in mind,
life is always getting better.

I saw a flower today,
I could hear her weary voice as she screamed at me to go away,
and every new story makes me
feel I'm gonna cry.

Why can't I see that
life is gonna get better?

There's one in every single crowd,
a soul that's ripped to peices; no sound
is equal to that cry you hear at night
when you're supposed to be alone.

And I've got nothing left,
No peice of who i used to be.
And I don't want you to say you're sorry,
I just want it all to go away.

Why do they keep telling me
that life is always getting better.

I hate the way i feel: it makes no sense.
I've got no excuse for this hate with no repentance.
I can't go home until I figure it out...
Life is always getting better.

Written on January 25, 2009, at 11:56 p.m.

I would love constructive critisism...please...?