Twisted, confused
I could be a poet superstar...
I refuse!

Slowly kicked by OCD
But it shows me things
I could be a poet superstar
Selling books, signing them and stuff.
But I refuse, 'cuz it might **** me inside
It ***** out the poetry in me - keeping me alive
I push myself in my mind - I change my thoughts - I'm upside down
Be a superstar - lose who you really are
Let me follow my own rhythm, and I'll move,
I'll Bloom
I'm not that proactive but it's cool, I'm fine

You all would go mad if you knew what goes inside my mind!
Specially you my jail keepers, my saviors
You want to read my insides but you'll be repulsed by them