Once upon a time… I wrote a poem called “Hope”


It’s on a day like today

That all my bitterness pulls through;

A continuation of the last bad day

And another trip down memory lane.

I wonder if I am ever going to break out

Of this continuous flow of anger.

No matter how hard I try,

These bitter thoughts keep penetrating my day.

It starts with a question, a thought of concern,

Then continues to develop into this rage;

And while I stop and think about it

It grows even bigger until, like a tumor, is ready to kill.

A single question develops my day into a nightmare,

Creating a point in time where I don’t want to exist.

A light at the end of the tunnel, they say,

And I see it, call out to it, waiting for it to come.

It’s not death at that light, but something much better:



Today has not been one of my better days. In fact, i would say today ranks top 15. I mean, I really, sincerely was trying to help, trying to see what the heck was going on in my sister’s life. Basically, she spit at me. Not literally, but figuratively. She spit at me, and made me feel like a fool, when in reality, she is the fool. You see, she comes to me for advice; she being 7 years older than me doesn’t make her coming to me for advice make any sense. But she was wondering what everyone thought of her moving in with this random guy. Well, being 26 years old, I could see the appeal: get out of the parents house (again), no need to check in with the parents when she was going out every night to get drunk. But here’s the thing. I can nearly guarantee that 85% of the people she asked told her to stay at home and save money. The other 15% would say, hey he’s hot, sure go move in with him and get out of your mother’s house (we have a different father, fyi). She listened to that 15%. Why? Because she is an emotional rollercoaster. She refuses to listen when people give her advice. She wonders constantly why her life is such a wreck and we tell her it’s because she didn’t listen. So we fought, over text because she’s too much of a bitch to call. And you know what? I told her I would see her in 6 months. She didn’t understand, so I had to RE-explain it. I told her this not five days ago. She moves every 6 months, usually returning to Mother’s house. Every 6 months like clock work. So I told her I would see her in 6 months. She sarcastically replied that I was being a “nice supportive sister.” I am. I know her. I know her better than she knows herself sometimes. She moves, every 6 months, though sometimes only 3 months, because of issues at wherever she is living. And you know what? She made my fucking day.

I was having  an…okay day. Not fantastic, but nothing had made it bad. Then I notice that she said she was moving. So I decided to ask about it. That is how ONE LITTLE FUCKING QUESTION ruined my day. Go figure. Plus with all the drama on other sites, and the dumb bitch who turned off the light in the bathroom while I was CLEARLY taking a shower….things just keep piling up. I am frustrated, angry and ready to kill. Don’t worry, I won’t, especially since the only one I am near is my roommate, and I won’t harm her, but still, the fact remains the same. The next person to piss me off is going down. And I mean hard, in the ground, six feet under without digging a whole. I will do it. One way or another, I will bury someone without ever digging that damn hole.

Snape_Redeemed out.


~ by HelixRook on April 2, 2011.

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