if i could do no wrong, nothing would ever get done. 
i wouldn't see the fake in me, 
driving a stake through me, 
wrecked or coming undone.

if i were a happier soul,
nothing but light would be shown. 
i couldn't be, wouldn't be- dark eating, dark to my bones, 
crowded yet so all alone.

but, if I were less noisy, and see a little 
less woe in me, 
if were holy, 
who would revere me? 
no. not one of those.
they only enjoy crackling souls.

if I could be left alone, then nothing would ever be wrong. 
i wouldn't see faults in me 
through others' eyes waiting, listing
and mocking the made up things i'd done.

if i couldn't be mistaken, 
no sea of the doubt in their eyes.
just floating not drenched a false image- shadowed nothing at all.
turned around facing the wall.