****** hands in the dead of night.
Crimson stains dousing the pools.

Body on the ground.
Knife through the head.

The rage got out.
And I killed someone.

I have nearly an ounce left,
and everyone's getting ready to pounce me.
They want to destroy it,
so I have to beg and plead.

My own friend grows higher on the scale,
turning me so very frail.
Then I become angry
when you boast about.

You expect me to live under your rule,
to live in stupidity
for the sake of you?
I refuse.

No, no, no.
That is not what I'm saying.
Friend, please listen,
before I shout.

I feel stupid myself,
when others brag about.
You are not stupid,
and never shall you be.

You hate me, don't you say?
It feels like you do,
when you lead me astray.
I shall not be ignored for a good score.

I'm not trying to ruin our friendship,
I just with you would listen.
People expect me one way,
and expect you another.

Please,
listen to me.
I'm not trying to make you feel inferior,
or myself superior.

What is this?
Another lie?
Everyday, people make me feel dumber.
It only makes me sadder and number.

I am not lying!
I am not trying to make you that way.
I'm just trying to keep you away.
Safe from the troubles of knowledge.

My friend,
you have no idea, do you?
Being smart means responsibility,
and being hated all day.

I don't care about that!
I just want to feel more for once.
How many times must I apologize
for getting a simple better than you?

Fine,
be that way.
I was only trying to help.
But you pushed me away.

Knowledge is the only thing
that gives me an ounce of dignity.
When I have none,
then not a drop is left.
*I am nothing.

I thought I could love you forever,
but then you saw my broken scars.
I thought we were perfect,
but it all went down in flames.
I didn't think my fight was over,
but I knew it all the same.
I thought you weren't
**gone.

I bet she's pretty.
I bet she's tall.
I bet she's nice yet not.
I bet she's smart.
I bet she's funny.
I bet she knows how to have fun.
I bet she does her hair everyday.
I bet she has nice clothes.
I bet she has a nice phone.
I bet she sends late-night texts to you, saying she loves you.
I bet she expresses her feelings.
I bet she knows you inside and out.
I bet she's all the things I am not.

I may be smart,
and maybe a bit pretty.
But that's where it stops,
for I don't do my hair everyday,
or wear make-up.
I don't express my emotions,
through this sweat-shirt.
She's nicer than me,
but I can be when I feel it.

Why can't you notice me,
like you notice her?
Why can't you see,
that I'm actually here?
Why can't you tell,
that I'm alone
in this box of loneliness?

If you want to die,
I won't stop you.
If you want to cause self-harm,
I won't yell at you.
If you don't care about anything,
I can't make you.
If you want to lose everything,
that's not my problem.
I'm sorry,
but I'm tired of saying things over and over.
*I'm sorry…