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The complete truth


I honestly do not care about anything.
Nothing has flavour; nothing matters.
I do not care about a thing.
I could live or die; I don’t mind your disasters.


I could be happy, or I could cry.
It’s not in my eyes, but from my mind.
I could have written a better line, 
But tell me please, who has the time?


I could love, but what is the point of that?
I could give someone a hug, but no-one is worthy.  Just stand back.
Do not get too close or the truth will have to be exposed.
I truly don’t hate you, but well, you know.


Apathy for apathy’s sake.
Rip out my heart so I can throw it away.
Punch me hard in my expressionless face.
I do not care if I have a nice day.


It’s not dislike; it’s not like you did anything wrong.
It’s just every single thing in the entire world is gone.
It all means nothing, I do not care.
I don’t want to shame you, when you say cut my hair.
There truly is no point, it really doesn’t matter.
Believe me, I could show up with green teeth, a disease
And my hair all matted, face unclean, with clothes all torn.
They have never been ironed, because I was never taught.


At the end of the day I could get fired
And I wouldn’t have the tiniest bit of sadness for the loss.
I will gladly accept it because I am so bored of liars.
Tomorrow should be something to look forward to,
But it is not.


So empty inside, but I have to smile.
I have to ask how are you, it’s been a while.
I leave no question mark because the answer does not interest me.
For this I no longer have any empathy.


I could explain, but I will not.
You do your own thing and get lost.
All you say is falling on deaf ears.
I am not listening, so do not expect tears.


Maybe I am a psychopath; I have no remorse.
Compassion I lack, how do you feel about that?
I exist inside all these flaws.
Are you answering?  I am mute, step back
And keep on walking in any direction.
I have no desire to make any kind of connection.


If you get too close, you will see on closer inspection,
That there is no lie here to be found, because this is perfection.
The antipathy of a verse of truth,
Written with a clarity of thought absolute.


(C)2019 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
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