Wendy, Windy

Wendy, Wendy:

What can I do?

On my way out:
I was calling for you to not kick me out.

On my way in the door, at home:
My mother replied from the couch:
Oh, it is you.

My cats all gathered around me.
Dry food is out!
Wet food -- they get a fresh can!
But not before I can get a cold beer.

Why, why.
Why is it hot in here?

I just wish that I could be with some one;
And share what I am going through.
What I have gone through.
I wish you were here, with me now.


Lisa, Lisa.
What are you saying?
Like wind in my ear, only its still draining...
Me from my soul, and only I can't hear.
On and on it could go, until my soul is done draining.


Are you still discomforted by the external bliss of ones' being,
As long as it is not your own?



Home now.
I am home.
Safe.
Blogging.


I wish I was some where else.
Happiness, I can never find in my own hole.
It must exist in some other hole.
Who's?
I do not know.
In what manner?
I do not judge.



All I do know is that I am a piece of shit.
Some people:
Are worth saving...
But I am not one of them.


I can honestly say,
That I would help a friend in need:
Regardless of who they are to me,
If they are worth saving:
I would do it in a heart beat.
Scrap every thing I am.
Throw it all away.
Save one person who is worth saving.
And be done with being one.


If I could throw it all away:
I would say:
That one person was worth saving, last night...
And her name is Wendy Armitage.
Wendy Armitage.



Call me up:
Any time you need a hero.
But keep in mind,
I am not here to save you, bitch.
Nor, to buy you a beer.
We all feel used at one point, or another...
One thing leads to another,
Paranoia Gets The Best Of Us All.



So:
All things aside.
I still say:
Fuck Off.
And Die.


Wendy.
Windy.
Wind is my personal guardian angel.
Wendy is like the Wind.
Its up in the air!
Who is to decide how hot it will get in here?



~theMuzzl3


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