such an idiot such an idiot such an idiot such an idiot morose minger with your greasy hair such a psychotic idiot with your foul halitosis whether metaphorical or real every typo frustrates every castrating mistake such an idiot whilst the negativity builds and the sciccors...scissors look inviting with their silky blades and effervescent edges you're such an idiot a morose idiot your ideas may be good but but um where have you gone to when you hurt every person and realise the bottom of the barrel is empty. shake away but there's nothing left.
these are my two favorite parts of the poem. it was even a bit of a frightening, especially the part about the scizzors. it got slightly harder to follow when you repeated "but" and then said "um", but you pulled it all together and left a lasting feeling at the end. overall, I liked it.
your words are like my memories..like my thoughts..but they are yours..strange how two can relate...im not sure if i just made n e sense
