Dearest society,
What do you think of me?
Am I thin enough?
Too fat, too short, too ugly?
Well that's just tough ****.
I've had enough of it.
I'm a person.
I've done nothing. No killing or arson.
Why is it you think that of me?
Because of my anger and sobriety?
You push us all out,
Is it not enough that we cry and doubt?
Stick me with your knife and twist it.
But where's my heart? You missed it.
I'll laugh at you and scream.
Burn the cherry with a hint of cream.
I'll smear your blood on my left hand,
And as you die I'll be there to stand.
You'll be ashes as I stand for eternity.

I walk alone hood raised,
Unpraised,
Covering my colourful face,
The dark bags and disgrace,
I live with unbearable shame,
I live in agony and pain.
I'm frantic, even in your arms,
I cannot sleep in this down, dumb world.
I've found comfort in this lonliness.
I cross my heart, hope to die,
sit alone and curse the sky.
I learn to adore,
Then sit back and die a little more.
I smoke the days last cigarette,
Thinking of all the things people have said.
Sometimes I pretend I don't hear them talk but only if I can,
About the same old cliche̅s, "is it women? Is it man?"