You’re really not as bad as you seem But I don’t care because I’ll believe anything you tell me So tell me. Who are you and what you done with you Or is it me? Or are we both my own worst enemy. Tell me you feel good about me so I can feel worse about myself And try and hide that with passive emotion and an out-of-control-locomotion of the mind that stops at nothing to run circles around me and everything I love. But at least I’ll have you in arms then, in the circle around my heart. But I hope you find a way out. I hope you tear my walls apart, let in the breeze and show me what it really means to feel cold and alone. And leave the light on, I don’t wanna miss a thing. Maybe I’ll follow you out the back door, or where the door used to be anyway, I hope by the time I get there, there will be no remnants of this place left so when I leave I won’t be able to look back because I won’t know what to look for. And then I’ll be forced to look forward for once. It makes me jealous of retrograde amnesiacs, as if they ever had a choice, and I know it sounds crazy but I sometimes wish someone could come along and erase everything before, so I can really think about starting new. Meet me halfway, between the past and where are today, and tell me with honest eyes that I’m okay. That nothing I could ever do would make you think any less of me, especially not anything that happened before these moments we have before us today. But don’t say it if you don’t mean it. Let me redefine the space between the lines for you and translate the empty space into something you can comprehend because we both know you can’t comprehend me or anything I’m saying and that’s probably a good thing in some kind of sick twisted way. My lines are getting weaker and weaker, does it make me a better artist if I at least realize that? Does it make my value as poet step into a separate dimension like hey I understand that I’m not what I used to be, good for me right? And man this isn’t poetry you’re just screaming into the mic But what’s the difference anyway, it’s not any less ‘artistic’. So take your shitty judgments to another show and leave me alone.