You can tell a lot about someone
By the music they listen to
I haven't listened to a love song in quite a bit
Of time.
Not because I don't like them, I like to think I'm not that cynical
But
I guess taking some punches to the gut from love made me rethink my playlists
Constantly hitting skip
Until just now
Cause it's when you're down that you truly understand lyrics

The song? "Try a little tenderness."

I'm done being shamed for being me
For not believing in god
For being a lesbian
For listening to the music that isn't popular
For being a female with short hair
For being curious
For being a feminist
For being myself
I'm not going to change myself to fit into your standards
I'm not going to change the way I think and learn
Because you think I ask too many questions and need to keep my nose outta things
I'm not going to change the way I believe
Because I cannot change that you will not make me
I'm not going to change the way I look because of you
Because I really enjoy the way I look
I'm not going to pretend to like what is popular and in trend
Because I don't want to have the exact same interests as everyone around me
I am not going to change myself because I'm happy with myself
Just because you are not confident in yourself, doesn't mean I can't be
I'm done trying to change to make everyone else happy
I'm not going to shamed for being me
I'm unique and no one change that

Actually I crave criticism.
I thrive off of it.
Please tell me I am wrong or I am terrible.
Please tell me to **** myself.
Please tell me that I am a fat ***.
Please tell me that I ruin things.
Because then maybe
Just maybe
I wouldn't feel as insane.

Sorry I'm a **** up...

I just can't help it.
I just can't stop it.

I tried...

I tell my self,
"Why do you mess everything up?"
"Why do you ruin the only good in your life?"
And "Why can't you do it?"

I have the blade,
I have the note.
But what I don't have are the guts.
I don't want to hurt anyone;

But I ask myself,
"Who's there to hurt?"
No one,
Is the answer.

This is all it took.
I jumped off,
And felt alive.
"I'm free."

Then I was gone.

But i am free to roam the world,
Free to see how little I mattered,
Free to not care anymore.
Free to just be me.

So yeah,
I'm a **** up.
But **** it!

Or should I say ride?
Should I say rather,
burning down the highway far too fast and wishing that maybe
just maybe I could find it out there somewhere
that was place where I could stop existing.

So I push the boundaries
push so hard to get through this unreality
drugs and ***** and ***
or alternatively
faith, religion and morality?

I've walked both ways
the straight and narrow
as well as the crooked and wide
and NOTHING has ever satisfied
the burning need to feel
alive.

So tell me readers and writers
inform me if you please
or perhaps sell me something
gimme some peyote or holy water
anything and everything
to explain why in all this self-induced rage
He has yet to simply let me die?

Because something inside is not of me
a two faced fiend with no imagination
and a jealous heart looking on the world
with scorn and derision,
knowing that there is a world out there
that I can see but will never be.

And apparently no one can teach me what to do
can't seem to inform how to simply be
seemingly the easiest of acts
but some hole in my soul
will not allow me to achieve.