You Deserve the Sting of a Bullet to the Heart

Dear Sanity,

This isn't my loyalty; it's a fetish for disaster because I am the moon and you are the sun. I only believe in prophecies made from Kodak. Like those little scrapbook notes you'd write me in third grade before I learned to remember. And you swore I changed into someone else. It was then I realized just how much you hated yourself, because I was only following in your footsteps.

You never liked change and so you always stayed the same. I guess this entitles me to become a little clearer. You see, I was a fan of Pluto before anyone felt sorry for it. And I was a fan of your intelligence, even if it was coated in decadence. When you left I became obsessed with rabid isolation and I haven't spoken a word of truth since. This is the price of pleasure.

I wouldn't call it cowardly though I'm sure by now you would. But in this you were wrong. One of my favorite quotes says that a tiger lies low not from fear but for aim. You were my prey and bang, bang I got you by the throat. Now there's a sense of loneliness that I am quite comfortable in, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.

Hello, my name is sadness. You laughed and sang along. It was days like those that I knew we would be ok. I don't have the voice of poetry but I thought maybe if I wrote you a letter you would know where I stand. You might peek at those songs we used to sing so long ago and pretend that you don't care that they're still logged in your vocal cords. Because we both know you were the stronger of the two even if your whip did lose its rhythm.

But I'm tired of sharing and you're tired of listening so maybe I should just wrap it up, band-aids and all, and tell you what I came to say. You have now become an unethical intoxication to me. Predictably you are predictable. And this is how you disconnect. I guess it's just like breaking and not wanting to.

Remember the way you saw me? You said my hair was like a rainbow without a pot of gold, because it would always change and there is no treasure in that. My eyes, you said were dead. Oh, you just refused to see that the spark they had was all because of you. This is my attempt to feed your ego. I know it's become quite starved.

Well in order to clean up this word vomit you need to learn to flush all your excuses down the drain. You can scream "This shouldn't have happened!" until I walk away, but now I know it's easier to stay than escape and forget. And I always liked taking the easy way out. So give me a chance to start this romance and become something brighter because you, my dear, are not the sun.

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-I have not written in a while and I needed some inspiration which certain authors may find has been derived from them throughout the poem. I'd like to give them their due credit. Anything I haven't listed below is my own work:

-1rst Line, "I guess it's just like breaking and not wanting to"-Ironic Allure
-2nd line, "I am the Moon, You Are The Sun", "You Are Not the Sun", "I was a fan of Pluto...", "Now I know it's easier to stay.."- Prophecies in Kodak

The rest are names of authors that I used in the poem as words:
-Prophecies in Kodak
-Rabid Isolationist
-Wip Lost the Rhythm
-Predictably Predictable

The title is also an excerpt from a poem by Ironic Allure that I really liked: "Sarcasm can cut, just not deep enough. You deserve the sting of a bullet to the heart."