Spring makes me a bitch

This pain is epic or nonexistent from one minute to the next.
Forget to be sad or happy but consciousness is a curse.
Unhappy me is a vicious tongue waiting for an opportunity to cut.
To destroy and bask in the surprised looks and startled laughter.
Waiting to take it too far or right up to the line but not over.
Waiting for you to take offense so that I can push further.
Profoundly unhappy makes me seem normal.
Like all the rest but honesty in the hands of a unhappy masochist with nothing to lose is a blade wielded with glee.
Join me in my pain and dance a blood frenzy of broken hopes.

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