Time is far too short.
Especially when everyday
is a vulnerable struggle.
To get up,
to breathe.
To talk,
to appear calm and 'normal.'
Life is too short
for each moment
to be wasted
on conforming with a society
that I will never belong to.
Life is slow,
and meaningless,
when a time so short
is spent on a desire to fit in.

(d.d.b)

I know.
I know I am an easy target.
I break too easily;
my soul is unbearably fragile.
You would think that
my heart would be calloused,
but that is far from the truth.
My pain is still
an open wound.
Bleeding freely
as it is picked and sliced
with elongated knives
of those all around me.
I feel it much too deeply.
I know.
God, how I am forced to know.

(d.d.b)

How?
Oh, logically, how?
Am I truly meant
to waste each day
on subjects I have no interest of?
Teach me.
Teach me how to love myself.
Teach me to soar, to succeed.
Tell me how to rid myself
of my lethargic atmosphere.
Only then,
will I appreciate the knowledge
of elements, equations, and events.
Please,
teach me the way to loving myself.

(d.d.b)

See me.
Not the facade I pose,
The true me.
Explore my indecorous soul
instead of getting lost at my mask
of calm, mild delight.
That, my dear friend,
is the facade.
See me.
Dive into the abyss,
of melancholy thoughts
and elaborate dreams.
Breathe in my imperfections.
They are plentiful.
Please,
see me.

(d.d.b)