Inadequate Tool

I feel the familiar burn of abandonment A feeling that anyone sane would resent And yet I bask in it—the disconcerted lament Angrily I tear at the seas and weeds of lies Saying nothing but curses—bidding goodbyes Painstakingly waiting for the cruel waters to rise But you never rose, you fool! You graded me into your gruel An inadequate tool—yes, a screwed up tool! Here I am again and no one has won Feeding on the nothingness you willingly spawn Nothing but GONE—who the hell won!? I thought you were a journey’s rest! But you are nothing but a wrong-turned address Spilling me over in a bloody, dead mess I want to turn away tonight And never look your direction Because no matter how hard, I cannot fight The seas of succulent depression! You were fixed At the expense of my misery At the expense of an inadequate tool