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Sep 2015
Cut me open and tell me whats inside,
diagnose me because i keep wondering.
Why my frequency is always off,
on a different pitch from the world.
Nobody to hear my cry, can anybody respond?

I need a cure, my circle doesn't fit the worlds square,
my corners missing, never fulfilled.
My brains wired wrong and I need a remedy.
Its not a phase it happens all the time.

The walls are desolate, a body full of ghosts.
No hint of movement or a sign of a pulse,
only a echo of skin and bones.

So come rain on my parade,
because I want to feel something.
Come shove me over the edge, tear me apart
because my head is in overdrive.

I know I'm supposed to be more,
Im not just another brick in the road,
more than just a spec of dust.
Life is supposed to mean more but i can't do this on my own.
Who will fix me now? Save me from myself?
Lyla
Written by
Lyla  Scotland
(Scotland)   
432
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