I am a brainwashed, pompous, white girl.
I am a blonde haired zombie.
I am an unspecified music genre.
I am an incoherent thought in the brain of a broken society.

I am the result of a hard-*** Catholic and half-*** Baptist.
I am the consequence of a hard mother and an absent father
I am a product of a corrupted America.
I am a privileged white statistic.

I constantly play the victim.
I constantly hold myself responsible.
I constantly lie, cheat, and steal
I constantly prove I am a hypocrite.

I am simple, indecisive, and manipulative.
I am myself and then contradict myself by being someone else.
I am human, but unadorned.

I am a blank canvas which manifests contradictions and inabilities.
I am a snowflake made of stone.
I am an uninterested, direct line of truth spurts

I am plain.
As you see from my complexion, I am pale.
As you hear from my words, I am a refutation of minority.

I am not unique, I am not creative.
I am not what you think I am.
I am not who you think I am.

But if you knew who I was:
Would you leave?

Rainbow parking lot oil stains
After the rain
staring at the washed asphalt
and my fingers go numb
wondering how the hell
and why so sad
another long drag
so much for
trying not to be bitter

Long black hair
That frizzes in the heat
Eyes a chocolate brown
A gaze long since lost its shine
A smile that hides no pain
A sweet tooth
That won't be outgrown
Unlike cotton attire
A heart grows dull
And cries unnoticed
Behind that unseen frown
On a good day
She looks like a woman
Like any other
Like every other
Like no other
Like no one
On her best days
She is a cool breeze on a warm day
Unseen, unrealized
Noticed after she's gone
A scent
A feeling
The absence of
Nothing

I am girl who sits on the bottom step of the stair
At parties
Who no-one knows how I got there
The girl who passes up conversation
The girl who twists her hair around her thumb
Then puts it in her silent mouth

I am the girl who gets passed by
Plain hair and plain eyes
I am the girl who lives for tomorrow
Who sees the stars as they are

well,
I blame me 
if you feel empty,
It wasn't supposed to hurt
like you are now,
So what.
I wasn't there 
no, I didn't feel a thing
and it wasn't like it was
meant,
to be.
Why cry,
When you lose,
All you make,
Every time you break down.
Again,
I'm sick as can be,
Without it
And I'm just trying not
To faint.
Today.

I'm not special
My eyes
Just brown
Not light
Or dark

Your wall
Won't come down
I don't
Mean
Enough

At the moment it all makes terrifying sense.. What the equation for fear really is.. On where it comes from and how it is felt.. Fear like hope also sends out strange waves that travel far and interstellar wide.. It transmits much like hope.. Where hope is the light and fear is the dark.. But I must simply state neither can exist without the other..

I suppose the shadows I am seeing are those of fear that could never find hope.. They are ***** shadows that bleed a purple mist.. Some of them seem to ***** such mist on those whom have the most hope.. They do not see me.. They are not like an ordinary shadow.. A true shadow is natural and is cast from the light of a being standing before it.. These simply exist on minus plain of obscurity.. Outside the human eyes, unfelt by the human senses.. They are chaos collectors.. They thrive on the fear and loss of hope.. They thrive on quitters and suicides.. And they want all of your doubt...