Color Me Gray

Donald Trump Angry

I want to hit you in your face.

And not like, poetically either.

I want my flesh to connect with yours.

You just say the stupidest things. 

And I realize now that the type of anger I feel for you, 

is the type of anger I felt when I realized

 people are seriously voting for Donald Trump.

You're over dramatics are getting on my nerve,

and I won't be able to handle another person saying

"give him the benefit of the doubt." 

Because you say shit that pisses me off,

you bitch every time I call you out on things. 

You play victim like it's nobodies business,

bet you'll be doing that for the rest of your life. 

And they say girls are dramatic. 

I won't even be talking to you,

and somehow you'll make it about yourself.

I'll be inviting someone to something,

you'll slide yourself into the conversation

and when I say I'm not talking to you,

you take center stage. 

Blabbering about how you "get it", and telling me

to "Go fuck yourself." 

Then you'll storm off casting glances of hurt

like someone will run after you. 

You're always talking a big game,

like you're some prince in shining armor,

but you're always running away like the 

stereotypical princess. 

And I look inside my heart, 

and at one time I cared,

but I'm finding out more and more 

that I really don't care anymore.

And I want to hit you, but you

aren't worth the time.

But you still make me

 Donald  Trump

Angry.