Me, myself, I
Very clear I see,
A reflection of me.
My brunette hair,
Curled with such care.
My deep blue eyes,
Showing I tell no lies.
My heart so pure,
My brain just so sure.
My personality bright,
I take in my sight.
I smell my fear,
I hear so clear.
I love the ones who are nice,
And ignore the ones who's hearts are ice.
I cry from broken heart.
I see the world as art.
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I write what's inside my heart.
I am me. Nothing more. Can't pretend to be. A person I'm not. This is all. All that I've got. I do not know. About everything. I know enough though. Not a high IQ. But I can talk.
Not the prettiest, Smartest, Or funniest. Overweight, Eccentric, Somewhat niche. A sense of humour, In the gutter, A tendency To be Overly Melodramatic.
Would you class yourself as ordinary. If not why not. Is there something that defines you as a person. If there is then you have just defined yourself as a person, am I wrong.
Hello again, today is Monday, November 19, 2012. Today I'd like to ask the question of why. Why do we care about the things we care about.
There's only so far I'm willing to go. Only so much weight I'm willing to throw. So much space for me left to grow. So much time spent not high, but low. There's only so long I'm willing to wait.
Contains Swearing. Fuck this generic world. You actually have no clue. The ugly human characteristic That removes you from the truth. For when they say to take a step back. I take more than two.
The mistakes I have made, And the second thoughts, I allowed to fade, The things I have done, The challenges I have faced, Even the ones I won, Acceptable errors. Or unforgivable disasters.
You probably know I'm a little bit crazy and mad.
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