fed up poems


It drives me crazy.
Your stupid look,
your lack of understanding.

It makes me puke,
the way you talk,
phony, you’re just pretending.

How am I supposed
to communicate with you?
Cause everything you want
is that goddamn gilded bijou.

You want respect, attention,
but you don’t know how to thank.
Stars, moonlight, sunsets –
you’re always bored, damn!

I can’t stand you anymore,
begone, be away from here,
so I can see the Moon, the stars…


more by Georgi Dimitrov

photograph by Christopher Campbell


Image Curve’s Manifesto


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