SHAME.

There isn't any real significance behind this other than the fact that I really want to see it. 

And the title, obviously.

There's something about shame I can't seem to shake. It feels like every week I'm having to apologize to you people for giving you less than my best literary effort. Unfortunately, I'm about to do it again. BUT WAIT!!! Don't close this window just yet. To repent for my absenteeism, I'm going to unveil the Holy Grail of self-degrading humor. Below, you will find my greatest source of shame; my teen writings. Of all the "cop-outs" and "apologies" I've published to keep my weekly-post promise, this is BY FAR the most painful. 

DISCLAIMER: If you're one of those people who feel horribly uncomfortable reading or seeing shamefully embarrassing things, you may now exit this tab. However, if you find glee in other people's humiliation, prepare for a pathetic dose of Emo Mark.

I Can't Believe I'm Posting This

An Astoundingly Atrocious Anthology

By: This Guy  

 Foreword

If I had access to a time machine, my first objective would be to travel back to the early-mid 2000's and break my typing fingers. This post-breakup poetry is why. Feel free to laugh at me, but please don't hold it against me. I am well aware of the error of my ways.

"Was that real?"

We did love each other, Right?

You didn’t just say that because of the moment?

I mean, On Valentine’s Day, when you told me you love me,

Was that real?

You may have meant it then, but what about a month ago?

What about that time you said it as we lay on my bed,

Tightly wrapped in one another’s arms trying to fall asleep?

What about the next morning when I woke you with a kiss,

And you smiled and recited those magical words?

Was that real?

How could you speak those words the same night you broke my heart?

Where did the love flee?

Or did the love not flee at all?

Is it dead?

Was our love ever real?

"Chameleon"

Remember when you used to be dark?

How deep did the colors run?

Did it reside in your heart?

You are so bright now?

How deep does that coloring go?

Does it reside in your heart?

"When Death Arrives"

When do we die?

Is it when our heart begins to settle, eventually taking a motionless stance?

Do we die when our dreams have become impossible?

After all, what is life but a dream?

If I dreamed of a future with you, am I now dead?

 Epilogue

I figure "When Death Arrives" is a good way to put me out of my misery. Sadly, those three pieces of poetic poo pale in comparison to the worst of them. But NO ONE will see those, until death arrives.

As he should be :(