Plumber
As I pick up my gun
with an emotion somewhat like sadness
with a sound somewhat like shame
and I listen for your heart beat in my hands
You tell me its okay.
NO! It will never fucking be okay again.
Don't you ask me how I am. Don't you fucking ask.
You put me here now get me out and I don't care if I'm stuck. And if you can't fix me, I'll get someone else.
I always do.
But when you leave, you always push me just a little bit lower.
Fucker.
I'll get you back for that.
Copyright Me 11/08/96