Shit rant poems

Dont listen to me anymore

Ive got all the perfect components of a published writer
I cant draw for shit

Perfect for those little 'abstract' illustraions
So special because theyre made by the author

I also cant write for shit

I never conclude any ramblings
I never let people draw the right conclusions

I leave my partner
The person who knows me most intimately asking all these questions after every piece

And its not like i have a secret subset emotional state writing mindset no one understands

The reasons i write is because i dont understand language

All im trying to do is find the right words i cant grasp

And i never do

I just reach this invisible quota

Where ive exhausted everything

And i tell myself its enough even if i could have a hundred thousands more feelings and misaligned characters to make

More literary devices i dont understand or know

But still apply

You see im the perfect writer because i fucking hate writing so much

I fucking hate myself just the perfect amount

Its the pinch of salt in the sauce

The dyed hair on the indie artist

You see i fucking hate myself so much its perfect because all the people that feel it so much more minimally

Or extremely more than me can take me to heart

Thats the biggest mistake

Never fucking take me seriously
Never listen to me

Never give me the time of day even if im screaming out

Bleeding out on the ground and flailing

Never fucking listen to me not even now when i give instruction

Fucking silence me

Dont listen to me

Even if its the perfect mix of mentally ill and humour

Edgy coffee cup quotations and instragram story asesthics

and if this ever gets published know that i can barely spell when i write or make sense on the page

I make sense because people love themselves so much the circle jerk of self insertion and cum pile of emotional intelligence

However limited or clouded

However much chlamydia

I make some fucking sense

See theyll call meta or abstract or some shit

A 'Perfectly unfiltered filter of society'

Whatever the fuck it means

Do you know i dont know what im doing

Do you know how fucking stuck i am

I never knew what the fucking what i was doing

I never know

When i take pen to paper
When i take thoughts to type

I never know

And you shouldnt fucking listen to me

See im so fucking perfect like that arent i

Just wait ill make eye contact with my publisher over the desk

Theyll make the spheel

Ill be unknown
A meme

Or moderately well recieved in no time

Youll all see you fucking will

Youll fucking see if

I get my shit together enough

Make a folio
Send it out

Edit change and sanitise myself

Get a better pen name and send it off into the world

Ill see you there if i get there asshole

But dont listen to me

Or take a promise

Walk away now

Dont be an audience and ill do the same

Goodbye

Now before i even start

Ill see you from the top or bottom who knows

Just dont forget to forget me completely
Especially now ive filled my quota