"Vantage Point: Withering Roses"

"Vantage Point: Withering Roses"

This long winded Word Smith
Uses long fingers and big hands.
Would stand on the block;
But I've got big plans.
No time to kick rocks.
I'm trying to pick the socks
That match the tie and vest
That rests upon my chest.

Would let my pants sag;
But I'm a grown man.
Can't judge your progress
If I'm not on, man.
Might not like the process;
But trust me. I understand.
Trying to do more with less
Has never been grand.

Would have taken advantage;
But I'm not that guy.
Lustful souls are deemed famished
When circumstances pass by.
Would be the other man,
But I'm not that petty.
People do what they can
When they know they aren't ready.

Would take part in your scheme,
But I'm moving already.
Never needed a team
To be balanced or steady.
That's no forceful resistance.
I've never been that stubborn.
I am not your dependent;
But I'm okay with being governed.

Would take part in gossip;
But I don't like to murmur.
We stretch the excess further.
That's why it leads to murder.
Would spend most of my time
Proving I'm better than you;
But I'll never be convinced
that there isn't more to do.

Would say "No Homo;"
But I don't tuck my balls.
I don't have to "Pause;"
I stand next to my flaws.
That bike chain and thermal
Will not make you eternal.
Expensive shoes and colored flags
Mean less than those jeans you drag.

Would rather remain solo
Than take part in the promo
And since legends last forever,
I may never say "YOLO."
Don't need to join the guild
To make me want to build.
Don't need to be objectified
In order to feel justified.

Would wax on my misfortunes;
But I welcome the adversity.
The brilliant are forever resilient.
Decide what your worth will be.
Those who talk about my limits
Will find themselves working for me.
No profit for useless critics.
They waste their time for free.

Would offer an apology;
But I must condemn atrocities.
Don't brag about life sentences.
I barely notice your apostrophes.
Why act as if being predicate
Is an unprecedented rarity?
It's not synonymous with celibate;
So stop reaching for charity.

Would withhold this clarity;
But pulled punches lend no credence.
You are living your own legacy.
Don't fall victim to impedance.

I won't excuse your age
And I can't contain your rage
And I would beg you to read this;
But you're free to turn the page.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Conscious Confidence"

"Conscious Confidence"

Just veer left or right.
Quit trying to work the median.
The difference between wrong and right
Makes you an asshole or comedian
And since we're being honest,
I never thought you were funny.
It's like you take the stage,
Grab the mic and make your money.
You need the negative attention.
I bet you crave the cat calls
But what follows your ascension?
What happens when the stacks fall?
I know you're not surprised.
Lord knows you've thought about it;
So before you cut your eyes,
Consider what life's like without it.

Unknown how this will end,
So for now, i will pray;
Not for that of my sins
But that you'll see things my way.
The highway is what remains
When you go against the grain.
You've quickly become the bane of my very existence.
Resistance is futile.
Please pardon the cliche;
But the limelight is mine
And it is here I will stay.
Nothing can really be
If it's not about me;
Know that this budding rivalry
Only feeds my vanity.

Vanity is insanity.
The prelude to calamity.
How could you stand to be
Part of such a profound travesty?
Gladly playing your games
As if it will bolster fame,
Ignoring what follows your name,
Not even acknowledging the shame
Of being half-assed.
Social outcast
Running your route fast
As if you doubt it will last.
You owe the crowd better.
They're beginning to get angry.
They may chant my name.
I'd advise you not to blame me.

History admires the brazen and brave.
It's the modest and the meek
That dream of living this way.
Such a slip of the mind...
What again is your name????

Never mind...

Let me offer you insight:
Why I think this way
When I look in the mirror
I see that I'm bold,
Cold and calculated
When pursuing my goals.
This wasn't always the case.
In my days as a lad,
Faced with circumstances
Understated as bad.
Hide your tears, Argentina.
I don't do sympathy.
My "bad guy" demeanor
Is what I use to succeed.
Never half assed
When performing a task.
*hits send on the computer
As he sips from flask*

Man, remove the mask!
As a matter of fact, just pause:
They damn near shake the stage.
"Let's have a warm round of applause!"
They anticipate my presence
Like a long awaited debut.
You've misplaced that true essence.
You don't make the rules. They do.
They who remember every word,
Every quote, every phrase
Every note, countless days
Spent on one who couldn't care less.
You offer women bare chest;
But you're missing that backbone.
You're a novelty at best.
Leave that attitude at home.

Sir, I am at home in this zone.
*Adjusts self on the throne*
Where the crown rests is home.
Yes,I am a rolling stone.
Your long awaited debut
Will be hard very to find.
The slot that was prime-time
Was confiscated as mine.
They root for the bad guy
But are afraid to admit.
They're seduced by the dark side.
The Force is STRONG in this kid.
Even after my last breath,
The stage will remain a mess;
Fully Wrecked.
Those who dare to follow
Can only show me respect.

Relax. Get comfy.
Tip your crown like a king.
Raise your scepter. Flash your rings.
It really doesn't mean a thing.
I'm too violent for the throne....
*Lends the crowd his microphone*
"DON'T STOP! FLOW ON!"
"TALK SHIT! GO ON!"
That crowd has no fear.
Is it getting hard to hear?
I don't suspect they'll drop tears
for one trapped in his wonder years.
No more mic check.
No more "La Di Da Di."
Just a coastal shipwreck
for anyone standing beside me.

My vengeance and righteous anger
Were formed from nights cried,
Equally violent thoughts
And actions justified;
Supplied by a past
Of shame and grief
And that of a childhood
That was far too brief.
First Row, church pew, Fall 1993.
Blue Suit, Black shoes, me age 13.
Pretty Flowers, kind words, Selections A&B.
There I sat with my father;
Hearing my mothers Eulogy.
I was full of fear,
But on my father, I could lean.
That was until he perished when I reached 19.
So it is easy to think
That I am destined to lose.
Thoughts that I combat
By making my own rules.

Damn, dude. You drop jewels
from a pool most won't swim through.
You appeal to what you feel.
I key in on what you've been through.
Lose the pro tools.
Turn the record off.
And for the record,
man, the lecture's off.
Take the center stage.
Stand tall against your misery.
Channel that inner rage.
Let it mesh with your delivery.
Make light of that dark energy.
Let it serve you well;
There's haters in the vicinity.
It's time to give 'em hell.

Old habits die hard.
Scars remain, I guess.
Repressed negative stress
Exposed my hopelessness.
I put to rest recklessness.
I now share the stage.
I shed my vanity.
The crowd is chanting your name.
We are one in the same:
The yin and the yang.
When in perfect balance,
Evil is put to shame.
Confidence and conscious
Have conquered the nonsense.
I put to rest my pen
Fully knowing we won this...

Locked up and Shot down.
Lunged forth and shut down;
but never out of luck;
so either gather round or duck.
Blue, Black and White
runs through our veins tonight.
You will likely lose your sight
as we begin to take flight.
You can't gather our reigns
and we won't erase the stains
smeared across our tortured souls.
We lose blood but gain control.
So conscious is our confidence.
We know you can't conceive it;
so just bask in the brush fire
of The Red Swan and The Blue Phoenix.

Written By: The Red Swan(Jason Abbitt) and The Blue Phoenix(Devin Joseph Metz)

"Endless Winter"

"Endless Winter"

It's ok.
It's fine.
I don't need it.
It's not mine.

I don't want it to be.
Not for we.
Damn sure not for me.
Miss me with that.
Missed me? Called back?
When?
After the backtrack?
After you fell back?

Yeah. I felt that.
So fall back.
Go away.
Not today.
Forgot yesterday.
Could care less about tomorrow.
No tears shed.
No sorrow.

No emotion for you to borrow.
Just lots of nonchalance
Blended well with indifference.
Steep death sentence.

No knife in the back.
No dagger to the heart.
Help pick up the slack.
Let's rip it all apart.

Chop the head off.
Take what we said off.
The apologies have grown stale.
All debts have been paid off.

You owe me nothing.
We're done with the shuffling.
Breathe easy. No more suffering.
Hands down. No more bluffing.
No handcuffing.
No erupting.
Don't expect something.
I promise I'm not fronting.

Let go of the day.
Nothing more to say.
I'll push through today
And leave you to your ways.

You may resent this;
But it doesn't matter.
I'd rather share distance
That be forced to bare witness.

I feel witless.
Tired of grasping at straws.
Can't scratch with blunt claws.
I'm done with these laws.

There is no democracy.
Spare me the idiocy.
I do not require a bureaucracy
For what I wish to see.

So leave me.
Right here.
Goodbye, dear.
Don't fear.

It's ok.
It's fine.
I don't need it.
It's not mine.

I don't want it.
Not for we.
Not for me.
Don't want to be.

Don't need you to breathe.
I've okay under this tree.
Don't need the bed sheets.
Cold air doesn't bother me.
That umbrella wasn't free.
I don't mind the rain.
I'm a big boy, see?
I can clean my own stains.

I don't feel pain.
Can't relate to disdain.
Can barely fathom strain.
I truly can't complain.

No grievances to render.
No psyche to dismember.
Nothing is worn or tender.
Nothing left to remember.

Nothing to return to sender.
Gave it all back.
Early Fall leads to endless Winter.
Spring and Summer aren't coming back.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Infidelity Theory"

"Infidelity Theory"

There you go:
You say "You know better
than to send love letters
to rug munchers and home wreckers!"
You say you're leaving me alone.
Well, can I at least have my phone;
and before we start fighting,
can I get that in writing?

I mean, if you want to be frank,
this king sized bed isn't yours,
and that key won't unlock the door,
but your back also meets my floor.
That's not my wedding ring,
In fact, I never bought you anything
more than cheap wine or onion rings;
so how can you judge my flings?

Oh; so now I'm a hypocrite
When you send me that text
after your husband chews you out
and calls you on your shit?
You've got some wit, girl.
Finish your fit, girl.
Go on, now. Quit, Girl.......

......the fire's lit, girl........

The chair smacks the wall.
I flip over the coffee table.
Neighbors listen. My name is called.
We get violent and unstable.

That crazy, ugly, dirty,
dangerous shit that you like:
pounding you in the recliner,
drilling you on my exercise bike,
Legs up in the corner.
You climb walls like towers
whilst I serve you with power.
We finish in the shower.

Pizza Rolls in the microwave
next to the Hawaiian Punch.
You ask if I have money saved.
You want to go out for lunch.
You get that crazy look
then you say "Never mind..."
I'm ironing my work clothes.
You stroke me from behind.

I say "It's time for you to go."
You say "Why, baby? take it slow...
...you're bulging...watch it grow..."
I guess I can't say no...

I missed three text messages.
The phone rings twice.
I've lost all hesitance.
Your lips feel so nice......

You're hungry for more;
but I just heard the car door...
"Shit! Girl, stop!"
My pants fall to the floor.

What's more:

Your lipstick is on my boxers,
You left marks on my chest,
and your perfume is on my vest...

You duck behind the chair;
but she can see your fake hair.
"Baby, it's not what you think..."
She heads straight for the sink.

The necklace and wedding ring
are grinding in the shredder.
She says "I knew it was that bitch!
Now it's time to behead her!!!!"

With a meat cleaver in her hand,
she has already outlined her plan.
I try to stop her. She trips.
Her phone falls from her hips.

You escape through the back door;
The phone buzzes on the floor.
"Are you free tonight, baby?
I've something special in store."

I can't believe my eyes.
Who would've thought to wonder?
The text on my wife's phone
came from your husband's number...

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"11:36 PM: Friday Night: 47th Floor"

"11:36 PM: Friday Night: 47th Floor"


To be honest,
I don't know modesty.
Honestly, I don't think much
of beating around the bush
when thoughts of the tush,
the nappy dugout,
the leaky run-out,
the So_Damn_Tight_I_May_Never_Come_Out
are part of everything
you know I won't talk about...

...in front of her, him, they and them...
...at least...
...............
...............

......but since I have you here,
and you seem at ease,
let not this moment cease.
I want to speak my peace.



I want to be your niche.
I want to find my crease;
sloppy and smooth like grease.
I'll savor every

single

piece...



Displeased with the ease
and the whimsy.
and the flimsy.
Those who would shimmy
and offer me plenty
if I just whisper "Gimme."



I want what every guy can't grab.
I want what every "Hi" can't have.
I crave the type of touch
that another can't nab;
He that barely enchants the she
yet she is drawn closer to he
and further from me.
I want what "can't be."



Not an insurance policy.
No fits of idolatry.
Nothing short of fantasy.
Make this our reality.



Your eyes.....
they sparkle when they shine.
They have yet to leave mine.
They search for what's within:
They see past this warm skin.
Not altered by this cold wine.
They don't falter. They feel fine.


Thank you for your time.....


Nights like this are sublime.
Most of them move so fast.
Let's see just what we find.
Let's make this moment last...


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"[Jaded](Sincerity)"

"[Jaded](Sincerity)"


Fill in the chasm with words. 
Thingss that are fathomed when heard. 
Words you can see with your eyes. 
Healing the broken inside. 
I took some time to read
And learned how to plant seeds
Because digging up dirt
Isn't always about self worth. 
Earth is too wet to be dry. 
Mud will never cover up lies. 
The sun will surely shine bright
and strip the wicked of their might. 


Wild ways, 
easy haze, 
short gazes
Towards my way...
I am not fooled 
and I won't be schooled. 
On experience, 
I recommend you fall back.
You will surely fall flat.
Idioms contained in your fingertips 
to strip the tip of my top 
whenever I seem to trot.
Brother please, 
at ease.


I assure you: No fallacy. 
No fantasy. 
No falsehood or fabrication. 
I'm full verse. No abbreviation. 
I'm offering no inebriation. 
I'm not on a mission. 
Just examine my diction
Before refusing the subscription. 
I know you think it's fiction;
But I can help you raise the bar. 
Since you're keen on prediction,
Tell me if I've found a star. 


Melancholy glances 
with no second chances in mind.
I am bored, 
grown tiresome of your sways.




My, how jaded are you?
How shaded your view?
More faded than new. 
What's her name? What'd he do?
Such a shame to pull away
From a fan of yours
Who spent most of his day
Trying to get through the doors
Just to view the spectacle;
And once I were able to see,
I so badly wanted to be
A part of your grand divinity. 
I watch in awe as you blink,
Sit in shock as you think
And pour out much more love
Than can be held in one wink. 
You pick up your pen
And tell the crowd "make a wish"
As you carve words into the sky;
Sealing them with a blown kiss. 
You're amazing!
Don't you understand?
This is a fan gazing!
I not trying to be your man. 


Can't you think of 
anything better to say? 
Superficial ways of slick talk.
Quick tongue.
Jaded I am not, 
but I must say 
my heart is a rock:
Diamond in the rough 
and streaked like glass.
I can't help but not turn away 
when you're fixated on my ass.
Your words : discerning.
You look : airy.


But why do you stand there 
as if I am saying zilch
And making a mockery 
of what I say?
When we both know
There is nothing on display.
I wouldn't buy your words 
if they were the last thing 
on earth to feed my 
spirit made of gold;
Because sweetheart, 
I am priceless and cannot be sold.




If nothing else today,
You've certainly mastered miscalculation. 
As far as the assumed "fixation;"
Hey, I'm from the south side of our nation.
I repeat that my manifest
Has nothing to do
With how you're dressed,
what you'll wear next,
Or what you are concealing
That you think I'd try revealing.
I see past the lockets. 
Don't need you to line my pockets. 
The self defense is old. 
I know you're not sold;
But why would I be as bold
To try insulting you with gold?
All that line my pockets
Are ink pens and candy wrappers. 
My notebook and a photo or two
Is all you'll find on this backpacker. 
Yes, I dress dapper
And I enjoy laughter,
And have a way with words
As I'm sure you've heard,
But if I were that ambitious,
It would be coupled with envy. 
I'd be focused on your ending
Instead of our beginning. 
I've worked on a proposition;
But if you're unwilling to listen,
Stand aside with your pride. 
I'll leave you to your own vision. 


Tis not vision, 
but reality: 
of your formality of cussing
Foul words of perception 
upon my grace
And full lips upon my face;
telling you, brother man, 
that I am not phased.


Sister girl, so much more
Is made of this world. 
Everyone doesn't have a vendetta. 
Some just want it to be better. 
Your sky is filled with cumulus;
Dark colored cynicism and contradiction. 
You keep your vision. 
I just hoped you'd join my mission. 
My words promote the everlasting:
The constant churning. 
The slow burning. 
The steady pace. Not fast things. 
My conglomerate of scribes
Know that their impact thrives
On their ability to never cease. 
You don't like to be creased;
So I sought you out as a leader. 
I am a fan of many;
But I am first a teacher. 
I've admired you for years. 
Not trying to be a preacher,
But all that rain and hail
Can be used for those who fail
To see their true potential
Because they think they are frail. 
If you augment your judgment,
You'll see that I mean no harm. 
I'm not trying to charm. 
I just respect your storm: 
Winds blowing away the fray
In such an intricate way. 
They can promote the endless. 
Clarity can be a mainstay;
But once again, I say
That I'm willing to walk away
If you detect dismay.
Carry on with your day. 


Let me tell you something brother;
that is the only name you deserve, 
besides having a mother.
Son, 
is what she had, 
but a man, 
I think not.
It is your same sex 
that continue to flock
On helpless women like me, 
free and seemingly strong
Until your kind come 
and break us til dawn;
Tell us lies and deceitful mornings,
Turn into hurtful mourning's 
and potential hoardings. 
I collected my clouds with pride
To hide this brilliant sun that shines.
Underneath all this thunder
Is a lover: 
Passionate, wild and sturdy. 
If you speak of something different, 
show me EARLY.
Don't tug me into your world! 
PUSH ME, MAN 
and make me your girl!


Mm. 
Question not
What my mother had. 
Don't concern yourself
With the wiles
Of every brother being bad. 
I've seen the kind. 
I've even watched them gather:
Times where only loud laughter
Was offered to man bashers;
But that was another time
When we used younger minds. 
The past is never present;
So if you want my essence…
Come closer. 
Don't stand back
Once I remove this backpack. 
You claim to know me
As if I owe thee. 
You say "then show me."
I'm not the goatee. 
I'm not the gold teeth. 
I'm not the alligator boots. 
I'm am not twisted truth;
Aimed at winning you over
In hopes of taking you down. 
Not trying to bend you over. 
I don't want to break you down. 
All I see are these sounds. 
I'm not playing around. 
I'm the nerd with the verbs
That makes the most of his nouns.
Don't you see? 
Won't you be?
This is a part of me. 
The nest within the tree. 
The vest that holds this tie
That constantly catches your eye
Has nothing to do with why
I want to join you in this sky;
So kill the crass reply
And spare me the criticism. 
The chance for more will pass by
Those inclined to cynicism. 
If you think I'm weak,
Take a shot. Sit back and listen
And in due time, you'll be faced
With your easiest decision.


This is no invitation to perdition. 
Join me.


In one ear and out the other, 
because I've heard all this 
from previous lovers.
I'm sorry, buddy; 
but your cheap thrill schemes 
scream beams that fiend.
and like miss Anderson, 
I've heard it all before. 


And yet and still,
You line this door sill
As if you are waiting
In spite of words so scathing.
I truly don't know
What else you wish to see. 
I am naked in your grace. 
All I have is all you see.
No facade. 
No tricks. 
No puppet strings. 
No hidden sticks.
Your words live. 
My words thrive. 
Let's preserve forever. 
Help this art stay alive. 


What you men seem 
to not realize is that 
the only art we see 
from you is pain.
Dripping with disdain,
Seeping in our veins, 
we hold our reigns,
Pulling them back, 
to hold back, 
from ugly masks like yours
But I see right through you.
Do you not hear 
what I'm saying is to YOU?


What women like you can't see
Is that the great divide
Comes from what you want to see. 
I've no reason to reside. 
Your thighs I don't wish to ride
I've no desire to penetrate
Anything more than your potential. 
Face me. Stop trying to hide. 


To try is to fail.
To hide is frail.
I'd rather continue 
"doing my own thing"
And when I'm ready 
to fall flat on my face,
I'll remember your grace.




Don't remember me. 
Stave your memory. 
When you misplace your grace,
Do not think of he. 
He did what he could. 
You did what you would;
So with or without you,
Life will continue like it should.


Touche, my friend.


That is the only category I seek.
For the mere displays of wisdom peeks.


I wish you well
Although I wish for more. 
I pray that your prowess
Leads to all that is in store. 
I still want to implore;
But I respect your decision. 
Maybe the day will come
Hopefully within better conditions. 
Such a strong soul. 
Such a violent nature. 
Yet you maintain control. 
You, ma'am are truly favored. 


Written By: [Evelyn Rivera] and (Devin Joseph Metz)

"Fairy Tale....Reality Check"

"Fairy Tale....Reality Check"


Go, Cinderella: 


With your house slipper 
that you call a glass shoe, 
your unearned means that 
you later deem shattered dreams,


Your man whose grand scheme involves 
street teams and triple beams, 
that crack whore credit score, 
leaking pipes and cracked floor…


Go, Cinderella:


Swooning over poets while 
poking fun at love letters, 
talking about cheese 
but can't even spell Cheddar,


"Watching the cash grow" 
but burning money fast, 
refusing to take it slow; 
so you know it never lasts,


Down talking the hags 
but you chase the jeans that sag, 
calling them the improper, 
but your head stays in boxers.


Yeah. Go, Cinderella:


Ambitious girl 
with her priorities skewed, 
the only "sweetheart" 
with a bad attitude, 
speaking sensitivity 
but acting like a dude,


More crude than shrewd, 
extremely rude 
and always in one of your moods 
which include 


the "chick who does it best,"
The "main bitch in charge," 
the "damsel in distress" 
and the "rock that will not barge."

No class for the pretentious ass.


Let's go, Cinderella:


You'll never dance on glass. 
You don't deserve a pass. 
Crash through your ceilings 
and see what it's like 
to face your feelings.


I bet it's not fun. 
So bite your tongue 
in lieu of the few 
who express themselves 
the way they do; 
lest you become one.


Keep walking Cinderella:


Get it, boss lady. 
Flaunt and floss, lady. 
Move around; 
because when it falls down, 
it's time to drown, lady.


It's going down, baby: 
Don't jeer at 
that puddle of tears. 
Too late to cry 
"Save me!" 


You have no fear, 
right? 
It's crystal clear, 
right?
You'll make it through the night. 
It's what you do. 
Right. 
Fool yourself, maybe 
but the rest of us aren't crazy.


I procrastinate; 
but I'm not lazy. 
I tend to over-saturate; 
but that's for safety. 
I'd rather land safely 
than let your plans faze me.


Get on, Cinderella:


Hop off of the bone. 
My Queen has claimed that throne. 
This is not your zone; 
so just leave me alone.


You make me sick, girl. 
You give me cancer. 


Don't need the tricks, girl. 
You can save the banter.


Keep your friendly texts, girl. 
Quell the occasional chatter. 


Don't ask what's next, girl. 
Your inquiry yields ugly answers.


You'll get what you 
don't want from me. 
You'll view what you 
don't want to see: 


The truth 
about a youth 
who became what she 
never thought she'd be:


A pig rolling around, 
acting like she doesn't love 
being battered in 
her lather of fecal matter; 
so disgusting, she can't even gather 
laughter from the Mad Hatter,


Earth shattered because 
she's depressed and getting fatter, 
but daring enough to pile 
more insults on other people's platter,


Claiming something bigger than herself 
but getting pissed when no one flatters, 
saying she left love on the shelf; 
pretending like it doesn't matter…


Move your ass, Cinderella!


Those are boots. 
Not glass slippers that you walk in. 
No one cares about your tantrums; 
so change the mood you talk in.


You're not what you think you are; 
so just proceed. 
Don't wine or balk when 
I present you with this broom. 
Clean your porch before you walk in.


Go, Cinderella.


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Forever"

‎"Forever"


Seriously. 


Will this be the last time
That I have to deal with it
Or should I schedule more time
For us to revisit this shit?
I get tired of being reminded
About all that I do wrong. 
That's why when I'm out alone,
I "forget to bring my phone." 


I mean really,
I don't like what we're becoming. 
So often, we would argue
And fight over much of nothing. 
There's times where we'd be out
and I' address you as my baby
Until you show your ass. 
Then you become "some random lady."


I swear. 
This shit is crazy. 


Our arguments are so extensive,
We get lost deep in translation;
Not from what we don't interpret.
More from hidden inclinations. 
All those underlying fixations
To bring up the situations
That you know peak my frustration. 
Does it bring you satiation?


Does it give you satisfaction?
Do you crave this action?
Is this what you need?
Are you trying to feed?
Am I as sick as you are?
What more is left to say?
We're done talking today. 
Thought it would end this way…


…Right?
Right…


A few drinks with my friends. 
There you go; calling again. 
Instead of reconciling with me,
You ask what car I'm in. 
You accuse me of cheating:
"Who's the girl you're meeting?"
"I knew you were deceiving."
"Could've said you were leaving." 
So quick to grab the phone
And get one of your friends
To follow me around; 
Reporting places I'm spotted in;
But it'll be over soon. 
I've dealt with this for years. 
Feel free to sigh and swoon;
But I'm looking past your tears. 


Get up!
Get out!


You can scream and shout,
But there's nothing to talk about. 
You can sob and cry;
But I refuse to stand by. 
I don't want an explanation. 
I no longer care why. 
Don't waste time on presentation. 
I don't need a dissertation. 


I just want you gone. 
You say "we'll never be alone."


"We belong together. 
We will be forever."


I say "You've wasted your chances." 
You make gradual advances. 


You tell me that you need me:
"I won't let you leave me."


I've heard nothing more
Before you locked the door. 
You reach under the bed. 
My pistol is on the floor. 


"You try to leave out,
And I promise you'll bleed out."
I look at you like you're crazy. 
You say "I love you baby."
"You promised you would stay.
I can't let you get away."


Ok. I've heard your rundown. 
Now please. Put the gun down. 


Stomach churning. 
I've never felt so sick. 
Your bloodshot eyes burning
Like a freshly lit wick. 
You blow one final kiss. 
My lips begin to quiver
As the barrel meets your lips
And you gleefully pull the trigger. 


Til death?
Yeah. That's what I figured, too;
But I'm haunted by that day. 
I guess I'm still not over you. 
Maybe it was overdue
Or we weren't meant to be together. 
Either way, it remains true
That you'll be with me forever. 


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz