Scribbling

Too much on my mind.
All the time.
It's best I'm left alone.
To brood and groan.
It's wrong to feel
You have all the burden
To yourself.
I know there are
People.
There, Here.
You, and you, you.
But you have your own
Stories.
Ponder.
But observe.
I'm not
What you want me to be.
I don't want to be.
What you want me to be.
I'm sick.
I'm pathetic.
I'm incurable.
Yeah, I copied all that.
From your SMS.
It's me.
It's time you saw
That we're going nowhere.
Give up on me.
'Cuz I can't be.
Look at me.
My disguise.
Period.
That's enough.
I'm fed up.
Of explaining,
Demonstrating.
My work is done.
I'm free to die.
I'm free to smoke.
I'm free to burn my lungs
Till I'm no more.
I beg of you.
Volver.
One last time.
Let me feel you.
I won't repeat the words.
I won't bore you.
With all that
All over
Again. Again.
Just one last time.
Volver.
I'll tell you
Clearly.
What bothers me
All the time.
You.
Me.
The others.
Living,
Non-living,
Abstract.
Period.
That's enough.
I'm fed up.

[Back to Square One on 3rd July, 2009, after you "tried" to volver.]