I am not a good person
I don’t want to be me
So much that I wish I could crawl out of my skin
I wish I could escape the metastatic self-pity
The black goo that has etched itself stuck to my skull
I’m not this person
No, I’m not bad
I only want the best for everyone
Everyone for whom I do nothing
Unless that everyone is me
“I have to do it for myself”, I say
As I dig my fingers inches deep in your pain
Scooping out every bit that would derail it
And feeding it to you like it’s cake
No, I’m not bad
I wish harm upon nobody
Apart from that man who looked at you earlier
And that girl that you hung out with, once
That’s not a bad person, is it?
No, I’ve never laid hand on anybody
I’ve spent days wishing you’d never met someone
Hours crying, because I hate myself for it
Minutes telling myself I’m insane
Seconds accepting it
And I feel the tears bubble up when I talk to you
Because this is excruciating to me
It’s horrible and heartbreaking for me
Oh, how painful and dark it is for me
But
What about you?
A cluttered mind goes silent
What about you?
I don’t know
I don’t know how you feel
If you’re sad
If you’re angry
Because I never stopped and thought to ask
It never crossed my sick mind that you could be sadder than I am
And that’s what makes a bad person, isn’t it?
Not thinking about how you’re feeling
Not asking you if it’s hard for you, too
I’ve never laid hand on anybody
But I am not a good person.
I am not a good person today.
