Sometimes I get carried away, I turn a few lines into a few stanzas
All that carry the same thought wrapped in different metaphors
Those are my writings that get left behind in the dust

I often forget that my words can stretch around the world five times
Then wrap again back to the axis and far too long to comprehend
They get overshadowed by these shorter laps around the globe

They sink into the far depths of the ocean into the uncharted abyss
They wrap around each other like lace and take breath out from every drowned out idea that I cast into the unforgiving sea

Perhaps this is why they get left unread like unraveled thread that longs to be intertwined within a masterpiece to be marveled upon by the masses and-

I'm doing it again aren't I?

In all honesty, there are always going to be people you can't stand. Like the teachers you hate, or political leaders, or just stupid people. But I might as well stop myself from talking about it before getting carried away.

I don't always feel my voice is very subtle, I'm told I'm a very loud person. And that's only true when I want it to be.

I kind of just hate money... and politics, and people, and anything and everything that makes me live up to world standards.

I've got an anger problem, I dream about getting into fights and then I imagine winning and suddenly everybody thinks I'm dangerous.

I should probably tell my sister I love her, but if I'm being honest, I have to tell my other sister I hate her.

I don't know how smart I'm supposed to be, or if I should act like I don't care anymore. If I could shoot up a building, I think I would. Not because I want to.

But because I ---



...


*Nobody ever told me how to put an end to this...