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.