Alright guys here it is.
No more rhymes to hide behind.
I've got a lot to say and not a lot of time.
So let's get into it.

I'm the kid in the corner.
I'm the one with my head down.
I'm the one who sits alone.
I'm the one who kinda likes it.
I may act out in the spotlight,
Crack a joke and get a laugh.
But in the end I'm still the one alone.
It's how it is.

For a long time I told myself I didn't care.
That the opinions of others didn't matter.
It never worked like I wanted.
But I soon figured it out.
The best defenses are assumed.
Not hidden, and not proclaimed.
These are the defenses that last.
Because they are simply a part of it all.

I had learned that the best way to hide my fear,
The way to hide my doubt
Was to act like it was nothing
And to simply move on with myself.
The scary thing is, that worked.
I doubt many know this.
But I'm crippled by insecurity
A poison I can't defeat.

I care what you think, I care when you notice
It's sad, but overwhelmingly true.
The anxiety I feel a lot of the time
Comes from the depths of who I am.
So go ahead, say that thing.
Tell me I dress stupid, or look dumb.
I'll retort back sharply and walk away,
But that sting will last.

My memory is too good.
Sometimes it feels like a curse honestly.
Because I remember each thing said,
Both good and bad.
So for those who took the time
To step aside and say hello,
Thank you for being there for me,
Cause I guarantee I needed it.

So to everyone reading this
Who never knew this before,
I'm too emotional for my own good,
And I hide behind that well-known pride.
Did I strike you as cocky?
I wanted to.
Did I strike you as prideful?
I needed to.

How else would I hide from myself?

I think I'm done with this poem now.
I hope you all understand.
It's not anything someone did wrong.
No, it's just me.
So enjoy picking my brain,
Getting a peek at the small introvert inside.
He's a sorry soul indeed,
I feel bad for him honestly

He's trapped in his confessional.
The walls keep closing in.
He talks to the walls, for hours and hours,
His head begins to spin.
He opens cans of worms and beans,
And tends to spill the latter,
Though no matter how long or hard he tries,
His confessions makes him sadder.

So pity the poor man you see
Have mercy on him won't you please?
It's up to you my closest friends.
He's on his very knees.
Listen to his confessions.
Listen closely, lest he fail
All he says is steeped in pain
His words could tip the scale.

My confession is over now
My time in here is done.
To all you listening in,
This really has been fun.
I'll walk away with my head held high
My heart, not so much.
I care too much what you think of me
My defenses, my very crutch.

Don't forget. Never forget.
He loves to love quite deeply.
So if you need an introverted, sad, emotional, hopeful, or quiet friend?
Come and see me.

Gotta stay sane boys.
That's what they expect after all.
That's what they think they'll see.
But is it?
Or is it different?

I jabbed myself with my own pen though.
It's bleeding now, making me rethink writing
Do I write and run the risk?
Or do I stop and go numb?
Who knows really?

You'll read this.
You'll think it's too much.
And then you'll click away.
But before you do, remember.
Masks are easy to put on.

Look at me
Do you see my crying?
Just wait and see
Cause there's two of us dying
No it's plain to see
You need a transfusion
New life force to help you
Break through your illusion
Break through all the lies
That you've come to believe
All the lies that bring people
Down to their knees
They need some new life
A new heart to beat on
Beating and marching
Till their hearts are gone

Drop my hand my friend
It's really quite ok
This blood I give you freely
So you get through the day
I've drawn my blood on purpose
Dragged a knife clear and clean
The blood is coming freely now
And with it, please be freed.

You think my blood is on your hands
Think you're the one in foreign lands
But it's not on your hands
It's in your heart
Blood given freely's a form of art
No it's not a wound,
No scar will form
It's precise my friend
The way I've been torn
I've pricked myself clean,
The needle was true
This blood is a gift
This blood is for you.

My friend it's over.
There's not much to say.
To pull blood with syringes
You must pull away.

I fear the ocean.
Fear the lack of life
Fear the unknown sameness below
Fear for myself, you see I've
Given up on having company
I'll sail alone for a while
But I'll need water sometime
Even though there's water for miles.

Someone come aboard then.
It's awfully lonely here.
It's hard to sail alone you see
And I haven't gotten over my fear,
Fear of sinking some day
Fear of waking up dead.
When the ocean finally swallows me
And overtakes the resistance in my head.

Until then I'll resist.
I'll hold out for my crew.
Someday we'll sail together.
Just.... Me and you.
Yes we'll set sail for places
That we've never seen before.
So come aboard my friend,
There's life on that distant shore.

Look out the window.
I'm here for you.
I was throwing rocks see.
So now what?

Open the door, slowly and quietly.
Reach in, take her small, frail body.
Hold her close, she won't be small for long.
It was a long drive,
She must have drifted off to sleep.

Roll up your sleeve, gently and methodically.
Reach down, take your pen and begin.
Draw carefully now, these require care.
This butterfly needs form,
Form that you can give it.

Sit down to the piano, solemnly and sad.
Reach out, feel the keys cold surface.
Play slowly now, you might betray yourself.
A sad song is only sad
When the pianist feels it too.

Take a seat. Waiting and waiting.
Reach towards the clock.
Only time will tell when the sun comes up.
It's hard to know,
When you can't find a window.

But don't worry.
The sun rises and falls each day,
Whether you're there or not.
So today,
I'm sure it's quite excited.
To rise on you.

Hey, you.
Yeah, you. The liar.
The deceiver.
The faker.
Guess what?
I see you.

I see right through your fake bloom.
No plant is always green.
Green and motionless,
Gathering dust in the corner.
It's really not hard.
Anyone who gets close enough can see you're fake.

I don't care how lifelike you are.
You're still made of plastic in the end.
The beauty of a wilted blossom is foreign to you.
Move along.
I want nothing with you.
Or those who set you up to show.

Give me the real thing.
A flower that takes watering,
And that will eventually die.
Not this fake plastic imitation.
No, give me fleeting life,
Not the lie of immortality and perfection.

At first I thought you looked good.
Thought I'd like you around.
But your greens have become sickly,
Your reds and blues dim,
Covered with a film of dust.
Only the dead gather dust like that.

Stop smiling.
Stop laughing.
Stop talking.
Start thinking,
Start breathing.
Start living.

Maybe then we'll be friends.
Maybe then it will work.
Not until then.
No for now, keep moving.
Cause I see you.
Clear as day.