one's work

it's useful to come here and drop
 all the useless trash in your brain
 squash all the fake plastic plop
 rubbish that drives you insane
I think I just let out  a gripe
and also a little sweet heart
it's slipped out with a load of tripe
but I can not  tell them apart
I can't tell what I wanted for sure
I can't tell what I didn't want either
It's all a jumble and more
a mess  I never needed either
I thrown out what I needed to keep
and I've kept old rot that's spent
I expected more than I achieved
and forget where priorities went.
But standing here as I oversee
in the dump of all dumps of the world
I spot my mess instantly
because I wrote it..I'm that kind of girl.