"Foot In Mouth Syndrome"

Guitar pick in his teeth,
he gazes at a sheet,
of line white paper,
scribbling words, occasionally.

His heart races,
head starts to swim,
his guilt won't leave him,
wishing he could stop the fight.

But no matter what,
he manages to piss her off.
She's on a tear again,
tearing up her memories of him.

He's slowly giving up,
wants to be done making assumptions,
no more allegations,
'cause all the blame's on him.

And his stupidity.
Wasn't thinking clearly,
now it bites him in the ass,
as he swallows his shoes.

Even if she wanted to try,
all the wounds wouldn't be undone,
they can only attempt,
to forgive and start again.

Or sever the bond,
break the connection,
fall to pieces...
and come back...
together again...

-This poem's pretty much about how much I hate having the uncanny knack for saying stupid shit. Especially when I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about. You know, I'm going to destroy that damnable tendency. I will grind it into the ground if I can.

I'm pretty angry with myself. If you haven't noticed.