Slipping

One day I’m going to fucking kill you.
And the sad part is,
The sad part is I don’t even know who you are yet.
You’ll just be some asshole taking the wrong liberties,
At the wrong time.
And the people, and the media,
Everybody,
Will wonder at the murder.
“What if that had been me,
Or one of my loved ones,
That that lunatic killed?”
It won’t dawn on them,
That I’ve always just wanted to get along,
But people kept fucking with me.
Always fucking with me.
Little careless things, some innocently done,
Some malicious,
But all of them making my life just a little more difficult,
Than it had to be.
I don’t mess with people,
I keep to myself,
I try not to make others’ lives harder,
And I damn well expect the favor in return.
But the favor doesn’t come,
Or at least too often it doesn’t come,
And I shake, and I kick things,
And one day,
One day you’ll piss me off,
And you won’t be gone,
And I’ll be there to catch you,
And everyone will wonder why.

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