Flopping myself on the
Floor of the Internet to
Be mindlessly ridiculed
And rejected.
I know my thoughts are mine,
My creations for me,
My art for I,
Though I feel the need to
To share.
The need to blurt out and
Pull on my own hair when
Their shoe dirt is in my nostrils
And their sole is in my gleam
And glare.

There is a feeling of
Necessity to let my
Head free into other's world's
And it is killing me.