Climing the ocean stairs
Flipping through neon pages of
"I don't care"
My copious apathy makes me scared
But really, I probably feel this way
Because my mentality is stuck in: "life's not fair" mode
I can't  seem to reset my brain
It likes to fight, sleep and dream away
My dreams are so vivid and so real
It feels better to live out my adventures
In my dreams

I'm Holden Caulfield
I'm a brat
I think everyone's a phony
But I know I'm just a hypocrite,
Because I'm a phony too in a way
I just see all these people
So locked into a system of capitalism,
Locked into vanity and materialism and self centered-ness
I think they're stupid and dumb
They complain about what goes on in the world
But they're a apart of the problem
I am too, but I least I don't have this whole song and dance to try to woo people
Seriously, at this point I'm just going to be my eccentric self
And not care about people's opinions
Because I know I'm not perfect,
But at the end of the day,
I'm not self absorbed, and I'm out there being kind and doing little deeds of kindness
I put kindness first,
But even with me, kindness doesn't always win

I told someone at work that I'm going to
Live off the grid because
I'm tired of society
And he said "but you won't have anyone to talk to"
And I said "I'll talk to the trees and animals"
Like some sort of Snow White
I wish I could tolerate people better,
But I have this strong inclination to
Slap the phoniness out of people,
And it's becoming more difficult to restrain
Day by day
Ignorance truly is bliss
Because being able to see so clearly
That each person is the source of their misery has got me going crazy!
Because even I can't snap my fingers
And be be released of all my negative patterns!
They're like chains, or
A maze I'm stuck in, that I have to keep repeating over and over again.

Down the day
and down my mood
Time passed away
but not to good
I walked
and wandered
No where to go
I sought
and searched
No one to know
When for
No reason
a child smiled at me
Her face alight
with some hidden glee
That’s all it took
to cease my moping
Sweet smile,
Precious look,
Restored my hoping!

And maybe I was born
With this feeling at home in my bones.
This weight
This constant thought
That I am not
Enough.

Or maybe it's a
Poison.
Trapped in my veins from the first time I was
Bitten
By words far sharper than my
Thick skin
Could handle.

So I am stuck.
Between the notion that I am a forest
Rooted in sorrow
Or a
Patient
Waiting for exsanguination
So that the poison is pushed out
And I can begin to
Flow
Again.