Poem to ME pt. 3

part of me has to die so that i might survive
this onslaught of lies and i fashion together a disguise
and i dont know who can see through it
on my lip i've bit
a scar for 20 plus girls, and none of them have noticed shit
i write and i write and no satisfaction comes
its just a distraction of the lies of these fucking bums

but i pull myself together, at long last
and behind is the past
by necessity
this is my chance to be
a hero to everyone whos outgrown these beasts
the burden of life is living like
i never wanted to stop my trike
i want to confide in my bike
but its years of separation
i've outgrown every occasion
to be a fucking slob
and to go and rob
everyone of everything that they care about, and i scream and shout
silently, in my head
i just want to share a bed of someone who hasnt lead
a life of misery, of tragedy
i want to be someone who isnt sad to see