Insane
This world is not where I belong.
To clarify this statement, I could write a song.
Life is not fair.
I know I’m odd in others’ account, but some things I just cannot bear.
It’s as if I’m not cut out for this.
If I ever killed myself, who would miss?
Miss. Miss me, my tender heart.
This heart that has been struck by Satan’s poisonous dart.
Poison. Venom; dispersing itself throughout my wrecked body.
My mind is becoming foggy.
This venom tips to the tippy top of my brain, my body completely shuts down.
Atop my head, I can see an invisible crown.
A crown for my position as insane.
Insane in my ruined brain.
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