I'm a dark horse, shining bright black;
not confident about my silent and unsuccessful deathly attack.
I know I'm out of wack and disturbing.
Come back and engulf yourself in my misery.
Be dizzy for me and be unaware of where you are anymore.
Make me your least favorite chore. Make me your dishes.
Fulfill my wishes that I can't even articulate to you.
Be my hue of indigo blue and continue to do what you so desperately don't want to.

I've never been a front and center dancer,
but my childhood reveries want me to be a star.
But instead I'm stuck sitting in a bar counting my internal scars;
like notches on the bedpost you imagine holding up your mattress on the floor.
I wish I could simply coast like everyone else,
but instead I exist only as a transparent ghost tentatively listening to everyone boast about how humble they are.
No one is a star and I can't even see a path to go far anymore.

So turn down my music and witness me slowly lose it until there's nothing left to lose anymore.
All that will be left is my protected core, naked and vulnerable.
I'm the bull forced to fight and you're my matador.
I wish the door to my heart wasn't permanently unlocked.
I wish you would knock on my mock turtle heart that you can somehow touch while we're miles apart.
I wish I didn't exist only at the start.