Fluctuate

Fluctuate

Between being Gods gift to humanity and being unable to stand the man standing, me.

Man.

I keep failing to understand me.

I pale in comparison at least one of us can keep caring, we flail our hands in the air or is that your hair I see?

I barely contain my arrogance or fairly over caring for the pair of hands that carry me.

I mean stopping just to stare and wonder where she sees the air I breath.

My muzzle mumbles like a humming bee, something sweet suddenly i’m juxtaposed a piece of Summer fun for me.

Thunder what a gusty beast.

A hundred beats.

A funny free.

The touching feeling of the once to become trusted, just to end up undone indeed.

Fucking sucks being done with me.

Some old substance.

None for me.

I fluctuate to humble the sun in me.

Don’t show them how I cut you with butter and tea.

I’m coming for you muttering under my teeth.

I’m just hungry, get something to eat.

I’m a fucking blood sucking beast.

A hundred hunters couldn’t number me.

My days are thunder dust, a lung is punctured.

Punish me.

I know I just become a number that you must delete.

Let me know when that’s enough of me.

I’m a fucking leach lunging lust is what you call it when you caught me on a luncheon spree.

Silly bunny come to trick or treat.

I am troublesome and dumb as I can bare to be.

You don’t care I live in terror like a feral beast.

I know i’m sick of me.

I know my history.

I know my bliss wore thin and the wince of drinking Listerine.

Wishing it was bleach.

Wish I was discrete.

Wishing when I whispered it was just to breath.

Every other symptom seems to be released.

I try to cage it with a hope to be at peace.

To keep my dreams.

My shiny teeth.

My bitter cheap.

Pretending that my letters don’t bring ecstasy.

Even self betterment contains a bit of disease.

I writ it with ease.

Release just to tease.

I fluctuate.

From numb to nothing sweet.

From love to tongue and cheek.

From hunt to come for me.

From fun to gun in teeth.

I’m a fucking blood sucking beast.

A hundred hunters couldn’t number me.

My days are thunder dust, a lung is punctured.

Punish me.

I know I just become a number that you must delete.

Let me know when that’s enough of me.

I’m a fucking leach lunging lust is what you call it when you caught me on a luncheon spree.

Silly bunny come to trick or treat.

I am troublesome and dumb as I can dare to be.

You don’t care I live in terror like a feral beast.