Should I scream it to the skies,
the red hot fury racing through my body,
should I show you all, at last, how fucked up I am?
Should I drop to my knees on the morning dew,
and show you what it means to really cry,
cry from the heart,
aching sobs that rock a shadowed soul?
Should I tell you about the blood I see on my hands,
share with you my grief and regret,
shall I tell you about the sadness?
the anguish that flows through my veins, and keeps me up at night,
afraid of the nightmares that pound my brain into confusion,
and break my heart into the pieces that you ignore?
Shall I finally break?

You would just walk on by wouldn't you,
turning your head aside and pretending not to notice me,
afraid that some of me might rub off on you,
and your so society conscious that the thought appalls you,
because you think im a freak, don't you?

You don't understand what it is to haul your body of lead out of bed in the morning, and have to conceal your disappointment that you woke up at all.