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| Get Over It |
| She sits in her room, staring blankly at her screen,
Why is the whole world out to get, or so it seems. She constantly tells herself to get over it, it's not about her; The picture is so much bigger, so much larger. She feels like everyone laughs at her behind her back, Making fun of her, mocking her, such a human plan of attack. Again she tells herself to get over it. No one does those things, cause no one thinks of you at all; misfit. She always walks with her head down, so no one could see, The anguish, the sorrow, the deep wants and longings. Now she thinks he found someone new, Gave up on her emotional wreckage, since enormous, it grew. Get over it, he still loves you, of that, deep down she's almost sure, Or is she just trying to fool herself, her self loathing so pure. So often she gets caught up in stupid thoughts. Where she intensifies things, and they run over her life; rough shot. What kind of mental disorder must she have, To maker her act this way; to make her seem so daft. Will it ever get better? Or will it get worse? She continues thinking this life is nothing but a curse. She makes up her mind, a hard decision to make; Writes a letter to the ones she loves; as she does, her heart breaks. Goes to the bathroom, closes the door and opens a cabinet. This - she says to herself, is where she will finally get over it. (c) copyright 2/7/06 Melia Teka |
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