I'm doing it again.
I spend my free time locked away
In this room, sitting in front of my monitor
Writing bad poetry and commenting on that of others
I shelter behind screen names and MP3's
For when I leave, all hell will break loose.
I am attacked
From all sides
Daggers of guilt will find my vital organs
Flames of resentment will lap at my heels
As I run
My top speed
Run from the dark waters that are the lake of loneliness
The ocean of self-pity and misguided care.
Relentless storms of bullets rain down upon me,
The scornful words they throw so casually
The pleading voices they use regularly
I fight back.
And I lose.
In the end, I must retreat.
And so I shut myself in this room
With the click of my keyboard
And I write more bad poetry.
If I'm lucky, someone will read it
Someone will care
If I'm lucky.