Being yourself,is who you are,
You are the person you are now,
Not being yourself but always yourself,
I look inside me like if being told who you are.

The Me,Myself and I is you but yourself,
When you destroyed the soul of yourself,
It is no longer you anymore,
If you praise for help for yourself,
Then you will be yourself to whoever.

Who is yourself?
Yourself is my,myself and I,
Let yourself be there for you.

We are taught to conceal aspects of ourselves,
When they do not fit society's perception of normal.
Even the negative aspects that ought to be dealt with,
We conceal in a steadfast way, making them more formal.

Denying something makes it stronger,
Even when it is an awful thing.
That is why acceptance and appropriate action is warranted,
Rather than these same songs of denial we sing.

Mental programming, it is killing us all.
Mental programming, it is how we fall.
Mental programming, what an insistent call.
Mental programming - we must stand tall.

outgoing?
I'd say outspoken
never been arbitrary
or overbearing-
just vocal

my passion runs deep
and pours out
excited
overflowing
when it finds
another soul to share it with

the energy
others direct towards me
I absorb
and like a mirror
reflect it back towards them

the energy
that rests inside me
is like water
waiting
for an outside force
to heat me up
excite
my molecules
or
to cool me down
mellow
the chaos inside me
making me stable
making me solid

if being an extrovert
makes me
popular and
domineering,
a fun-loving,
party animal
who lacks introspection,

tell me why
I always choose
to isolate myself

why
my few friends I do have
I keep at a distance
except when I force myself
to enjoy their company
once or twice
in a year

why
I am easily talked over
my words drowned out
ignored
like background noise
my input
apbrubtly halted
as others drive over it
making it no more
than the dust
their tires kick up
why I let them
talk over me
rather than raise my voice

why I would rather
read in solitude
than go to a party
or play a video game
rather than socialize
why
would I choose
to ponder existence
over
existing with others

extroverted
means I get my energy
from external events
rather than the internal

I am not a synonym
for gregariousness

You got to have it you do you gotta
have it the unheard voices say so loud
we are what we eat garbage in garbage
out mind food everywhere drip drip drop
wearing away rock filling up oceans
high as a mountain deep as the sea we
are shaped and be a shape drip drip drop
unique and infinite snowflakes do not
even deserve to carry our baggage
humbly you sense it you consume it
and are a new being one molecule
at a time we go somewhere lead follow
or get shoved out of the way the world is
our private playground killing field heaven
we dream we control for safeties sake we
group bodies and souls together and live
and think and breathe synchronized tighter
than fish turn now into fortunate
circumstances with skilful means learned at the
knee of god awareness none other than
that which moves us sentient beings are
what i don't know how to exclude grass and
rocks from mind light pool wavy source of all
gravity wells included

She's got the looks
In desperate need of a Rook
To help fend off the Men who will use her
Because she's been used one too many times
And God i don't know many times
I can say this
But she's not an object you inept bag of bricks
She has feelings, a heart, a sharply intelligent mind
Girls like her are hard to find
She deserves more than the past, it's pretty apparent
Hopefully someone transparent
Will come along
And treat the crown jewel for the value it's worth
And not undermine it.
If i was any one of the men she was with
I'd be lucky as hell
Picking up the pieces where they fell
And be there for her like no one else
I'd grab her hand with mine
Look her in the eye
And tell her it will be alright

They call me schizophrenic
And say I talk to things that aren't there.
But they have been there since I can remember.
They talk to me and I listen.
But sometimes I wish they would just go away.

They call me pyro
And say I set fires for fun.
But it is a fascination with the beauty.
The colors and the movement are mesmerizing.
But that kind of beauty can be hard to control.

It's not my fault that I'm like this.
Ignorance isn't always bliss.
I'm okay. I promise. I swear.
I'm not crazy, don't you care?
Trapped inside this padded cell.
Living in this white-walled hell.

They call me cutter
And say I slice away my problems.
But it is the emotions that it releases.
I imagine the flowing blood is my anger and hurt.
But those feelings come back and the scars don't fade.

They call me bipolar
And say I can't control my emotions.
But it's not my fault.
My mind changes them to extremes and I freak out.
If I could stay in control I would.

It's not my fault that I'm like this.
Ignorance isn't always bliss.
I'm okay. I promise. I swear.
I'm not crazy, don't you care?
Trapped inside this padded cell.
Living in this white-walled hell.

They call me sadist
And say I find joy in peoples' pain.
But it is the high that I get
From the hurt and humiliation
That makes me crave it.

They call me psychotic
And say I have "lost touch" with reality.
But my reality seems real to me.
I am forced to live in the "real" world
When I liked mine much better.

It's not my fault that I'm like this.
Ignorance isn't always bliss.
I'm okay. I promise. I swear.
I'm not crazy, don't you care?
Trapped inside this padded cell.
Living in this white-walled hell.

They call us troubled
And try to treat us with tests and machines.
They all want to "fix" us and make us better.
They just want us to be the way society wants.
But that's not who we are...

If the heart guards love and purity,
And the brain controls intellect,
What doth, I ask of you, reside within the kidney?

Not rhyme, nor reason, asketh thee,
('Tis true, I must confess) but why
Deny its place to the kidney?

Power embodied in the arms, you'd see
Within a man, immediately,
But it seems, unfortunately,
That none respect the kidney!

For wherein doth cleanliness stay?
Surely in the mind somewhere, shorely lock'd away
And what of pride and greed, if I may,
Inquire where they rest today?

They lie in the foul'd heart, entombed for eternity.
So what attribute, dear reader, can attribute
A shrine within the kidney?