I need this,
For me it's like an addiction,
I find excuses for why I am the way I am but in the end,
It's this that is my most honest form.
Anonymous,
Hidden behind a pen or a keyboard,
Spilling my soul in words rhyme,
Turning off the lights and losing all senses of time.
I scare myself and feel like I can't lose grip,
Because I never really had a hold.
Freedom is a false desire because what is it really?
I don't want freedom, I want love.
I don't want freedom, I want to feel alive.
I'd rather live surrounded by tyranny and fascism,
But be freed by love,
Than be surrounded by love and acceptance,
But be trapped by my internal struggles.
Truth is I've driven myself mad with thought,
I'd love to just turn my mind off and just coast,
Like a bike that just flies.
But maybe when push comes to shove it's that madness that makes me who I am.
Without it who am I?
I'm no one,
I'm a robot just going through the motions,
With a fake smile, a red cup, and someone I don't really know on my arm.
So ***** that I'll be the crazy one in the back of class,
Who shows up late and keeps quiet, and gets high and rides a bike at night.
Just feeling the cold winds against my live skin.
Letting my mind run free and light up the dark skies.
This is where I am free and this is my addiction.
I live in the grey areas and the parts of life that get overlooked.
I've spent so much time being angry at being overlooked and being walked past,
By those in the black and white parts of life but maybe I was wrong.
Maybe I'll spend my time looking around at the overlooked and I'll find my missing piece.
It's hard to find anything when you stare at your feet the whole trip.