A Grumpy Poem

I'm mean and sick and maladjusted,
I'm tortured, angsty, dark and twisted;
I leech your happiness with my heavy-lidded eyes,
my black attire reflects the tormented soul inside.

I need more sleep. My back is pain.
If I don't weep...I'll go insane.
My smiley past self can't recognise
this hideous monster it can't exorcize.

Give me no lies, no platitudes,
no comforting pats-just a box of tissues.
The snot oozes like the polluted Kinta rivers,
as I curl in my bed with this blasted cold
and shiver and sniffle.

Ish. I can't believe I wrote this.

With all my dark twisted love,
The angstry one who has taken over the Tea-Puller's body