i'm sorry but i'm building this wall around me,
so, the monsters can't get you, too.

i see the flyer at starbucks

"are you caucasian?
without mental health
and drug problems?"

wow
i don’t know the answer to any of these questions
is a jew a caucasian?
is the occasional naked, ****-slamming drunken rampage
a drug problem?
as for mental health
i’m a deadbeat poet and unpopular pop musician
i’ve got a job fighting death and boredom
and i just changed my facebook password to "eat ****"
my frustrations have driven weaker souls to homicide
but are these PROBLEMS?

Don't know why
But sometimes
I just want to die
And then I wake up the next morning
Thankful the pills and drink didn't take

I honestly don't want my people's world to quake
With the mistake of my bad decision
I'll stay here and try to make revisions
But I'm just not so sure they'll do the trick
I'm sorry if I leave you before my time has ticked

But I really do hate the bitter taste that will be left in their mouths
So I refuse to take it

I'm too sensitive for others

Sometimes I just think I'd be better off alone for the rest of my years

It feels like
If we didn't drink or smoke
You'd maybe hate me
And I'd maybe just cope

You told me this isn't true, though
And trust me,
I'm trying my hardest to believe you