it tastes bitter without the
sweet and i can't remember
how it felt before.

what comes around
goes around until you realise
that maybe you should've
changed when it mattered.

schemes, schemes
schemes, schemes,
scheme away because
i can scheme too.

it was never my intention
but it was always yours,

to paint misery with
prickly brushes into
the darkened sky
and to

stencil in hypocrisy
between the layers.

you bring destruction
upon yourself and let
it run over the edges, dripping
dripping,
until i'm covered with it too.

i lick my lips and
it tastes bitter without the
sweet but i don't think
it was ever mixed with sugar
in the first place.

an

bad poetry only stems from bad inspirations.