I do not like the snake
the one that is hate
but slowly embedded in my nails
forced into my being
leaving no choice
when misunderstood and abused
nothing left but screams
of pain
you narcissism
not always about an ego
let a fragile beaten soul wander
and fall
it isn't always about you
hate

and when I were to return home
would you recognize the thing before you
long ago much confidence held
but now the years have eroded me down my friend
not that I am saying it is a bad thing
I rather like it if you ask
but I know you see a skeleton
an echo of a joyous soul past
I may look worn thin but really I swear...
I like myself
I just cannot open up the way I used to
and I cannot say or do the things I used to
so when you ask what is wrong
the reply would be nothing
but that I am not the same one I was six years ago
so learn to relearn me
and accept that if a friend in me you truly do find
that you will accept this phenomenon