Nothing Fucking Matters

I don’t have anything to write about.

I have everything to write about.

I have nothing to think.

I think all the time.

I don’t have so much as a dime.

I am rich.

I’ve never got the time.

Cause time doesn’t actually exist.

Nothing actually matters.

Everything is supposed to matter.

All amongst the chatter,

You listen to problems that were once yours, you comb through their conversations as the uninvited third party and shake your head because they have not yet realized,

Nothing actually matters. No one actually cares. You do it for you and you always. Everything is supposed to matter, yet, nothing actually matters.

I have nothing to write about.

I write about everything.

But none of it matters.

Response to “Daily Prompt: Witty”

How could I pass this prompt up?


With one drag of her wit,
You’ll have to admit,
Hooked you are.

But you’d better look from a far.

No desire to commit,
Not even one bit,


You shan’t change what you find to be strange,
Some do not desire to be ordained,
Some do not desire to be restrained.

Within her kit of wit,
She holds the tools within the fools.
She’s living a life,
She’s got your splice,
Don’t try to roll,
the dice.

Your gamble will turn to shamble.

You can not change what shall remain.
A woman so pure,
Down to her veins,
With all her pains.
She thrives from the change that makes you disdained.

As you,
Will always be you,
Will always be,

And with one drag of her wit,
You’ll have to admit,
You have changed quite a,