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Fearless
My Mother screams
The cat brought a mouse in!
In the kitchen, my mother standing on a chair
the orange cat with a little gray mouse clutched in his jaws
Looks almost like a scene from a 50's cartoon
I shoo the cat out and clean up the blood stain left on the floor
My boyfriend looks at me with a frown
"Can you just get rid of it?"
He's holding a can of my hairspray
There's a spider twitching in a corner
I've seen this guy take a foot to the groin
with less fear in his eyes
I scoop the spider into my hands and drop it outside
He slapped my a**
I turned around and slapped his face
He smiled at me and said,
"That all ya got?"
I walk away.
It felt good to hit him. Too good.
If I didn't stop now,
I wouldn't have stopped till some of his teeth sprayed out
I remember the way my dad used to hit me.
Back hand, or with an open fist when I was lucky.
With books and plates or anything handy when he was really mad.
I used to clean my own blood off my school books and I think
Maybe that's why its so easy for me to shoo away other people's fears
Because the only the thing I was ever really scared of was my father
And he's dead.
I guess that makes me fearless...
- by BlondePsycho |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 01/15/2009 |
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- Title: Fearless
- Artist: BlondePsycho
- Description: It doesn't rhyme. I'm aware. Little something I wrote up about a year ago. The only thing not true in this is that my father isn't dead but it's been over 2 years now since I've seen or heard from him. Isn't it nice to grow up and leave behind your childhood fears?
- Date: 01/15/2009
- Tags: fearless
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Comments (2 Comments)
- Asga-ya-ge - 04/25/2009
- poetry doesn't have to rhyme. and it's supposed to be life exp. thats why i like it
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- Summer Fallwinterspring - 01/17/2009
- This is interesting, actually, a bit better than most of the tripe, but what's the intent?
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