It’s a sickness, really. The returning self-rejection, is a sickness. Continuously trying your damndest not to be a “waste of space”. I’ve got to say, it’s also confusing to think that complete strangers would tell me this when I was a child. To impart in me this rejection. To tell me I wasn’t enough and haunt my present. I know, it’s a lot, but it’s a part of my journey.

I think I’m losing something important, but… it makes for some gorgeous art.

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Out of My Head

why is it
so much easier
to write a sad song
than hear and sing along

for every duo dance
was never to the beat
and any second chance
is a one-way street

can you feel my anger
rushing to my palms?
can you feel a fire
in the eye of a storm?

if anybody
had a heart in their head
would you risk your life
or take mine instead?

i was put
to a test
testing a water
for father conquest

and if my best
ain’t enough
can i allow myself
to let in the love

don’t bother me
i need more
more to be
and more to do
don’t bother you

i’m out of lies
when my own hands
silence the cries
until i’m bled
out of my head

out of my head