Case 19

Make my house your inn,
Not your residents.

Words spoken by,
A man much older,
And much wiser than I.

I wanted to ask him,
Ask him many questions,
But alas I didn't see him again.

I should of heeded his warning,
And maybe this would be,
....different,
Very different,
But this is like everything else
A monument to my failures.

Nevertheless I press on,

Onto her,

For the sake of privacy,

I'll assign her a number, 19.

That's when I met her,

Age 19, figure is something else,

Herself esteem was low,

Her pride was high,

Sadly I wasn't.

Maybe if I was,

This would be different,

....... very different.

We dated,

We fell in love,

Days turns to weeks,

Weeks turns to months,

But not months to years.

A year later I hear those words,

"Make my house your inn,
Not your residents."

It was too late,

The questions I wanted to ask are simple.

What to do if you let someone in?

Someone who you can't live without?

A person with the power to destroy,

Every wall you built?

He probably couldn't answer me.

I let my guard down,

I fell for the dream,

19 really did a number on me.

I became a monster,

Lashing out at everything,

Falling back into depression,

19 fucked me up,

I couldn't help but smile,

And would reject all help,

All outside compassion.

I hated what I've become,

I'm the asshole you see today,

I hide behind bass kicks,

And very vicious lyrics,

Headphones always on.

I drink and smoke,

Unlike the dapper Mr. Smith,

Straight-edge isn't my scene,

And I'm still in that arms race,

Still raging against the machines.

Stacking false smiles,

On falser emotions,

To keep the falsest people happy,

I do not know,

Which life I'm living,

Or if I'm alive,

If this is a bad dream,

Please end it now.

All the thoughts in my head,

Said die now,

But alas I am afraid,

Of death and many other things,

Like cats, I'll never show it,

Or admit it outside of this form.

If you are unfortunate enough to read this,

I truly am sorry,

This is the only way I release anymore,

Its healthy, and more additive,

Again I use sadly,

......but sadly this is all I have left, that isn't designed to melt faces.

DJ Bonaparte

https://www.facebook.com/DJBonaparte1
That link is to my DJ page on facebook. Shoot me a like or for the broines with Ponyhoof app give me a brohoof. Alright thanks.



Things are looking up

Mind of Bonaparte

The world is definitely going dark again. Writing about suicide and homicide again. I'm starting as always to miss home, but truthfully if you won't judge me on it (Kristal) I don't want to go back. At least not now, if I'm feeling shitty in the middle of nowhere, I don't want to be shitty at home. I'm really good at this right now, nobody up here is aware of anything. Or maybe they don't care, either way the facade is paints a pretty picture. I get to be the asshole that I can't be at home. I'm free to say whatever out of my mouth, it's liberating. If only someone up here understood. Well there is two people that get me. A girl by the name of Kate, but she only understands me when I'm drunk. That isn't healthy. The other is Ezada, but she has her own issues, like not realizing she is a real person and can do much better than what she is doing. I'll no longer speak on it. I wish Charles didn't quit, but it was right for him.

I'm off to go mentally cut myself. On my paper cut shit again thank "God" for iPods.

~Truly yours, Hopeless Romantic 12435