Oh the pests that do rattle my chain
If I am forced to be here
Let them lie down dead before me
Let me beat them with an iron rod
And I will stay quiet still death
But be rid of their tongues and teeth
And I will truly be happy
Allow me to close the window on their head
And their blood will keep me satisfied,

I looked in the mirror
And I don't know which part of me I had seen
So many faces
All familar
How can I have so many people
Trapped inside me?
I want to let them go
But who do I choose to stay?
I need them all
Different faces
For different occasions
I have shut myself out
From my own mind
And have become comfortable
With these foreigners
Simple because
I dont want to bother anymore
I don't want anyone seeing my true self
Not even me
If I can find her that is.

I haven't been here in a while.
I always walk.
But my dad and I were finally free on the same day.
So we went to nutgrove.
Got some sweets
He go waffles, his favourites
I'm all in black with bright
Red?
Pink?
Magenta hair
And blue eyes
I look odd as always
And I'm getting weird looks
But he doesn't care.
The bus is 27 minutes away
There are others at the stop
Some guy on headphones
And a guy who keeps trying to look at me
Descretely
But I notice
I pretend not to.
Does he think I'm beautiful?
Or just strange enough to look at
Or does he want to draw me
Like I often want to do with people I stare at
Nothing ******
Just fascination.
Maybe
I hope
I don't want him to be looking at me like I'm a wanted thing
Maybe it's vain
But I did myself up nicely for once.
I don't know why
I was in the mood
Saturdays always put me in the mood for blue eyes
Not lipstick
Not with my habit.
My lips are red enough anyway from my habit of biting
And picking.

My dad gives me a funny look.
He doesn't talk.
I'm happy, because of my new headphones
And the other people
They don't need to know what we share
Smoke comes out of his funny face
I giggle
Like a little girl
I know I resemble in his eyes.

I look into the field across the road
There are a group of kids
To far away to know an age
And they don't have a dog
I don't know why this troubles me.
But then a lady walking her dog
Strolls past
And I'm on the ground
Sitting
So he comes up to lick me
Almost to grant my wish
I'm happy again
Then the bus comes
And I struggle to get up
I should be happy
I'm going home to feed a rumbling stomach
But
There's something about a bus stop
I just love
Sorry.
I rambled again.
What do you like?

It is a sad day
When a grove in the brick
Is more interesting than the people around you

The dull subject doesn't hold a candle
To the hole in the wall

I bit off my finger
And spit it up into the tree
The sun makes me thinks this
The leaves pillow in my head
I look directly at it
With my finger at the core
The sun is to obnoxious to allow me to see even my own fIngertip!
A branch poking in the corner
Makes me believe my bloodied finger is hanging in the air
In reality it is just water
My wet *** and muddied boots are proof of this
The bird only stops chirping to feed digit to its chick

I do not care to glare at the sun
It's harsh hair is mocking in beauty
And it's wide ears take in non of my concerns
It sits for a bakers dozen and sleeps
While we worry the nights away
It does not fear a spiders Web
Or the buzzing of a electric house close by
It brings light our troubles
And then sleeps soundly on a cloud
While we ponder what dreadful fears it has brought
It's greets you with teeth
But it is only when you depart
Do you see its daggers

It's funny how you dont care about things that are important
Or things that don't matter.
Like life
Or this poem rhyming
Or spelling
Or people understanding it
I just feel like staring at a ceiling
Or hanging from it
I don't even care if a murderer would come and **** me now
It's just an overwelming feeling pushing at my skin
And I don't even care
My best friends seem like nothing
And my enemy knife and rope are what I imagine
Blood running down the drain
I paused the movie and don't care to Un pause it
I don't even want to walk up the stairsbut
I will
And I will stare at the ceiling until the harsh morning light comes
And I will not pay attention to anything
People will call me lazy.
And I will not care
I don't even care to give this a title
So use your imagination
Cause I'm all dried up.