The Author Disaster of Epic Proportions

The guard is shot to hell, but it's well and fine cause it isn't mine or anyone else's fault, but theirs. I'll take the blame for lost glances and frantic spinning but the behavior issues are uncalled for, I suppose, though I did it when Lucy was in charge. I am the Captain, The Author of this work, I am the one they whine to, the one they call "jerk". The one thing I won't stand for, the move I cannot counter, is blatant disregard, the way they discard my orders and demands. My authority withstands, and soon they'll learn. Even the stubborn. I'll show them. I am The captain, the writer for this page, the star of this performance, the one who's held responsible for the actions of the children. Not adults; not yet. Not 'til I get some respect. I love guard. I love girls. But this is something new. And there's only a few of them but they're fueling this poem. I know it sucks and bollocks, I have nothing more to say.


There's more in a day that refuses to fade cause Paul and I almost broke up. And he's working out tonight while I fight with my guard and turn the wrong way during left haste. At least I nailed about face, but my mind was in another place, driving with him in the truck and listening to the Insane Clown Posse. I've had sex on that backseat, twice, and each time it was exciting, but apparently not enough. I guess we'll try to work it out but that's why everything after lunch sucked.

Stepfather will escape again, to Jacksonville this time, He's gone by 4:30 am and I say good riddance like Green Day with a guitar I'm pawning on Saturday for a garage sale to pay the phone bills. If it weren't for thrift stores, I could cover it with a check, but the dresses were cute and reminded me of Anna so I took a chance. I don't care anymore. What do ya know, I forgot to think of Krystal today and maybe that's fine, but now she's on my mind and the song I dedicate to her is playing from the Itunes account I had to cancel for lack of credit card. I was told to get Limewire but I cant afford a virus cause my life is on this wireless. His eighteen-wheeler is tireless and he's yet to pack a bag, but I've said my goodbye's and I know I won't cry since I'll be lost in sleep, thank god. I could use some, I do believe.

"And don't deny, one day you'll need me.

All my life I been looking for the answers

To the questions you never asked
And we never planned on this disaster,

when will I let it go?"