Why can't someone just be
You look so pretty and nice and innocent
You're prim and proper with short, short hair
It's the story of my life.
You burn buildings and eat your toenails
You go to crack parties and carve symbols into your arms.
Don't take it personally
You're trying to deny me the world
Because this place needs motherfuckers like me.
You're in my way
Afraid to be alone
Back.
NORMAL?!
remotely, minutely, slightly
normal.
You're psychotic
or you're an idiot beyond belief
or you fuck 40 year old men for fun and profit.
and you put a blade to your wrist twice a week.
and you like to pull the arms and legs off bugs with your tongue hanging out of your mouth.
I look like I run over children in a monster truck
but you actually do it.
I've got a creepy manner about me
but you're the one tracing lipstick all over your body when you're home alone.
but you make me drool and sweat and slur my words.
You keep your first used maxi pad in a brown paper bag under your bed.
You won't eat tomato because you don't like how the word sounds...
and I never find out until after the 5th date.
Wedge.
you're just kind of...
in my way.
locking it up with bolts and chains and big steel doors
and more importantly
you're denying the world of me.
Someone who thins out the pack,
someone you can blame your problems on.
And I'm crazy for letting it happen
and even crazier for liking it,
but someone has to take all the blame and criticism
while waiting for everyone else just to just
grow up.
with outstretched arms
telling me I'm not needed
and that I can't handle it...
but really,
you're afraid.
and afraid no one else will take your abuse as well as I have.
And it may all be true
and maybe 15 years down the road we'll meet again
in the middle of a graveyard
because you botched your "suicide" attempt
and really did kill yourself.