Sometimes I Say Stupid Stuff

This is in no way related to what I said before;
You know, those angry slips of the tongue
That slit themselves out of my lungs
And spilled all over our used-to-be-clean floor.
I stomped them out, and after about half-an-hour
They stopped moving, and my heavy breathing
Stopped feeling so oh-so-painfully-consuming.
(I wish my inability to control my temper
Wasn't hell bent on attempts to doom me.)
Anyway, like I was saying before,
You have every reason to be upset,
You have every reason to lay your chin
On your chest, fold your arms beneath your breasts
And refuse to speak to me,
But please.
(Deep breath)
Baby, please, just turn around, look at me
I'm contrite and just-like-you teary eyed,
I feel like I'd rather die,
All sticky from pushing all that irrationality aside,
I'm full of broken bottles now,
They used to be jars of frustration,
But now they're shards of glass and bent
Bottle caps tearing up my insides.
God, this can't last.
(Right? God this can't last?)
This is in no way related to what I said before;
Because before I was spilling unaimed
Anger on the floor, like bile and half-digested alcohol.
This is much more like an apology,
From my knees,
Just look at me and listen...I don't want my
I love you.
To land upon your hunched and silent shoulders.