It's just one of those miserable nights.
I didn't push people away.
I kicked them out.
I'm hormonal and everyone is bothering me.
I do not know why.
I do not care why.
It is time I let myself be selfish.
It is time I do things for myself beside drinking
And smoking
And crying
And cutting.
And feeling like **** about the people around me.
Am I needed because you want me?
Or is the fact that there is so much change freaking you out?
I can't be here just so you can have a conatant.
Just to reduce your stress level.
I have a stress level too,
In case you were wondering.
Incase you were wondering too.
All I want to do is scream.
And rip out all of my hair,
And jump off a very high building.
I would do it all too,
If I didn't have enough courage,
And valor in me.
I don't care if I come first,
But I don't like to come in last,
And especially when I don't come in at all.
I at least thought you'd let me continue running the race.

As above so below / below I go..  as my soul feels unformidable / uncomfortable, distraught & destroyed / like lapoliths dissolving into soil/
coiled and coined /

.. sold and bought by the same buyers every weekend / do you think the tree gives a **** about what side you need shade in?  / blatently impatient / unsteady and steadily waiting on the same old things that kept you incomplacent / belligerently praying , on the day when space and time no longer define how long you'll stay here / keep me awake and far away ../ Far from the illusion of me being this major mistake / "it's all in your head" you say / lying next to my shoulder awaiting day break,  / for Pete's sake will the sun ever rise today /


Screaming and shouting,..

as I start kicking your knees and you stand there proudly / watching me pouting / silence worth a thousand..  
Pronouns.

"Don't make a sound,  we're not alike but I can tell you'll end up liking me somehow. "

I'm starting to get the jokes of old
Of the mother-in-law as its all starting to unfold
To be ignored by every word you speak
Living with a curtain twitcher up and down her nosey street
Ideas that you want to share and be heard
But ignored daily like that last forgotten ****
Knock-knock on your PVC front door
Two Jehova's witness now welcome to my floor
I'll listen and chat to any old made-up spiel
Just nice to have a talk and chat, without a handshake deal
But to be passed by and blatently ignored
Is not what I signed up for on that registry floor
Life is to short to be passed by in the street
As I'll walk to a different drum,
my sound,
my soul,
my beat

JJB