I cannot still this rasp of breathing
Or quiet an unrelenting mind;
Only watch a cold world, reeling
At the uncertainty of what I find.
My world’s too small for wonder;
My heart used too little to be fond.
My competence too acquainted with every blunder
To believe “it’s not me — I’ve been wronged!”
My brain’s too caught up in matters gray
To make up its mind what’s right and wrong;
But still my despair won’t get its way
Be it because I’m weak, or strong.
The lines were never there;
Edges have always shifted.
Suddenly I’m meant to care
The difference between tortured and gifted.
Now the world is filled with monsters;
Now forgiveness is unwise.
Where were those standards then,
When I saw darkness in your eyes?
I think an Amazonian ate my face
It’s not in its usual place
And now I have some extras
But I rather liked the one
But wait — it’s not so dire!
I just Kindled the wrong Fire
And now I have my face again
So back we go to fun!
Oh yes, I can see those confused looks and slack jaws. I was thinking on explaining… But you know what? I’m feeling sadistic. ☺
Am I supposed to tell you what I’m thinking
When what I’m thinking is a sin?
Am I supposed to be so very honest
When everything is caving in?
I have seen the price of honesty,
And no commandment not to lie;
Perhaps what I’m supposed to do
Is leave the truth of me to die.
It should be noted that I am one who has, on occasion, blurted things out without properly weighing them first; and not as a result of any pressure, or what people told me I was “supposed” to do, but because I personally feel it is right to be truthful. It’s just not always smart.
We learn who we’re supposed to be
From the people in our home;
And then again from those we meet
When we go out to roam.
We learn well, eventually,
All that must be shown;
But who are we supposed to be
When we’re all alone?
All I feel now is the lie
My heart is filled with falsity
Telling me I’m angry
Never telling why
Somewhere is the truth
Anger is convenient
Despair the main ingredient
Mixed with sadness and youth
But truth carries the pain
And knowing doesn’t save me
When I know I’m going crazy
Because how could this be sane
But if this is my deceit
Then I could use a little crazy
Because the only thing to save me
Is to not admit defeat.
I am running away again;
Every question is an answer
To the problems in my head.
There’s too much in the world today
That doesn’t seem quite right,
And I must face (or else fly from)
The fact I’m not a light.
I keep looking at paths forward
And I see too many lies;
The trouble with an honest liar
Is it always comes as a surprise
When the people who should be telling truths
Are telling you what face goes best with ties,
And like something that could be boxed,
They go ahead and advertise
The person that you ought to be
To fit into the largest mold.
But I’m afraid a world like that
For me, is just too cold;
Something in me rails against
The lies we’re asked to tell.
I tell the ones I need to;
But there’s none I mean to sell.
I worry, if I write my soul,
There’s no one that would understand
And so, as if some ancient scroll,
I translate for my brave new land
But here, a word has lost its meaning
And there, a tune has lost its singing
And somewhere along the way has gone
The very thing that I wished put to song.
And yet, I worry, if I write my soul,
No one could ever understand
And maybe, the glass might be half full,
But that doesn’t mean it’s not half full of sand.
And, who could be that keen on drinking?
Better to reign as queen of over-thinking:
And decree instead of glasses, better a box,
And better still to double-check it locks.
Tell me how they know
When to leap and when to stay;
Tell me where to go
When everywhere’s a way.
Tell me what you see
When there’s nothing left to say;
Please, just stay with me
When I know I’ve gone astray.