I feel like all I know is pain. I guess through everything else.
At times my good side and bad side become synonymous.
Patient, now I’m in this position just to listen even though I’d rather explode and let go of inhibition.
Words trigger me easily; key to my ignition. Pistons start kicking in. My temperature rising.
My attitude, too rude, and still I make excuses. Like because you caught me in the wrong talking is just useless.
Talk but I refuse to open up until I hurt you. So you could share my devious smile witness my work through…
…the eyes of saint, the heart of new born, but actions send my words into absurd. Now when you’re on…
…you show face until you break me. I could take it but I’d rather not fake my securities. Rather face it.
So insecure I know it, so I exploit it. Let it sink in and annoy the voices that tell me otherwise.
Some people I called friends never did liked me. Lose myself to please another human? Sorry, not likely.