(I'm really sorry about the language, but I was extra "pissed off"
when I wrote this sonnet. Normally I hate the 'F' word
(mostly because it was HIS favorite word), but sometimes
it's the only thing that seems to fit.)
To you, I say, "Go fly a fucking kite!
Go jump off of the highest cliff you know.
I will not let you torment me tonight
Or change my plans because you tell me so.
It's none of your damn bus'ness what I do,
Or where I go, or who I choose to see.
I don't need your permission, so fuck you.
It's time you fucking stopped controlling me.
So throw your fit, if that's what you must do.
Go find another mat to trounce upon.
Your days of putting me through hell are through,
I'm sick of your abuse, and I've moved on.
I do not give a God damn flying fuck
About you now, so you're shit out of luck."
