little i

kids, if i had a pensieve,
i’d never leave it.
not on days like this.
i haven’t left the clutches
of clouds and coldness
and yesterday.
what courage, rosemarie?
what courage, did you see?
give me a voice, God,
to shout to someone!

i need some help here, stranger.
i need some help here, friend.

why can’t you see
that i’m not perfect?
why can’t you see
through all my lies?

i can feel your judging eyes
ignoring what i would say.
i can fear your abandonment
at my admissions.

the point is
i don’t need
justification
although i
know you
want it.

i just know you won’t fucking get it.

 
 

‘cause who am i
to feel this way?

call me a loser
for copping out.
call me a loser
for quitting now.

‘cause who am i
to feel this way?

 
 
 
 

(anyone could be dying inside
and you would be too narrow
to believe it)
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