Life Doesn't Allow Lunch Breaks

They’ve sold you out
for the easier, sweeter answer
No one believes your lies over their truths or so it has become
But it doesn’t matter anymore
You can’t feel it anyway
it’s become so routine that you wonder
how happy endings were ever imaginable
How can the meek ever inherit the earth?
Will they really want what’s left of it?
What it’s become?
What you’ve become?

You had so much potential
or so your third grade teacher wrote
And she was right
But how was she to know
How was anyone to know
That you would become an example
The exception to every rule
that life had plotted out

Betrayed
in ever sense of the word
by every possible source
with every means necessary
Of course you don’t deserve it
it’s not your fault the fates hate you
that every ounce of happiness
any blip of joy
has been wrung out
and shipped away
so slowly that no one notices
–not that they care anyway-
as you spiral every which way
towards anything that’s not the goal
making you sea sick and small
Your emotions are nil
Your blood doesn’t even care to flow
in your veins any longer
What does it matter?
You can’t die anyway
They won’t let you

Okay, so now I have a blog

Hi, I'm Stefanie.

I'm not to big on public journal/diary things. I think I'm gonna try publishing some poems or something up here. I have my own site for my musings. It's currently at www.geocities.com/ntosake_nelson

It's the original Casualties of Life. I update it with random, sometimes humorous-sometimes sentimental posts or essays if you will, hoping just to amuse people.

Hopefully someone will read this. Eventually.