Mindless, Hopeless Verbiage.

It hurts.
It pains.
It's a feeling I can't really explain.


Unpredictability showers.
Every once in a while,
You make me smile.


Unpredictability showers.
Every once in a while,
You also make me cry.


It's the authority I thrust.
It's probably my fault.
That's probably why I lost.


It stings.
It cuts.
There are anger outbursts.


It still doesn't apparently matter.
But there are people who care.
And, then, there are people who dare.


Pretension was something disliked.
It turned into what I now do.
I turned, slowly, into you.


Words always mattered.
That was all I truly had.
Never knew it could also hurt so bad.


This poetry isn't going anywhere.
Just the same as me, hopeless and unaware.