freak of nature
"selfish" screaming in my ears
I digress violently now
Whitman bleeding out of
my ears
I cannot bow
seventeen and furious
I am the poet of the
human skin; of violins
and softly fingered clarinets
singing of the dirt under
my fingernails
self-loathing--the evil twin
of guilt--is blinding
I cannot read graphing
calculators or the
future
but both seem empty
like the box under my bed
that used to hold pieces of my
soul (or I thought it did)
now I am scattered
I would like to
hold onto your hand
(I will be less abrasive this way)
instead of purging myself
of every doubt that
has rudely accosted me
in the marrow of
my simple human
structure

Everyday is always the same
The clocks never seem to change
I have trapped myself inside
A purley psychotic paradise

Clad in red , i lay dead roses on mommas grave
I think the doctors killed her because she was going insane
And whenever someone accidentally touches me , it rarely happens
They run away screaming , acting like paranoia is radioactive

And it makes me sad to have no friends worthy to ****
Constantly offering dead poppies and drooping daffodils
They help replenish the empty void im trying to fill
But what needs to be refilled is my bottle of antipsychotic ****** bin pills

So when i skip through town hearing people spewing wrath
I run into a man accidentally blocking his path
He is the only person who hasn't looked at me like an infected rat
And the handsome man smiles and says " Your a beautiful psychopath"