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Saturday, June 18, 2011

Time makes you bolder, children get older

i'm getting older, too
great song
and now for another poem...

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you'll all look at me different
then again, it's not like you'll believe me
i'm just making it all up
to be different, you say
yeah, i would make all of it up.
i would want to go through all this.
i would want people to think of me as a freak
different in the worst of ways, they would say
you're going to hell
but i'm not different
i'm still me
i'm just me trying to figure out who me really is
is it really too much to ask?
to much to ask for someone other than my sister who understands?
someone else to confide in
that won;t just send me to more sessions
or raise my dosage?
I've almost found out what the probelm is
but it's not like anyone can help
you've all been 'helping' so much,
that i can't trust any of you
with anything.
so, yeah.
i'm just making it all up.
for kicks.
for attention.
for the hell of it.
but if you just see
see into my mind
you'd wanna get the hell out of there
as fast as you could
becasue my mind
is a damn scary place.
and i would want out, too.
but i can't.
so i guess all i can do
is make sure that if i can't get out
nobody can.

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