solid vine
so many light bulbs;
none of them work
a current of maroon so strong
not even the septum could hold
why do i keep on going back to a love that's so wrong
when all its pages never stopped to unfold?
i would rather hide in the shadows
than have a pack of eyes watch as my lips move
drown in pain and in sorrow
than fight for something i can't prove
"i thought you were smart"
well, i thought so, too
maybe growing up with both a mind and a heart
means growing up with blue
i wish i lacked empathy
my heart filled with the absence of sympathy
because all who are happy
are only filled with stupidity
i may have won and took the stage
but the spotlight never shone on me
at least, not manually
my heart, from the crypt, screams with rage
i don't want more medals, no more awards
i don't want more fame; please let me out of my ward
if being the average
and hiding with common ground
is what it takes for someone to be my friend,
then so be it
"i don't have a friend"
but they don't have a face to look at when the teacher says to find a partner
"i don't have a friend"
but they have a sweet melody they can listen to every day
"i don't have a friend"
but they can and are living a normal teenage life
filled not with precocious achievements
but with something more extraordinary: friendship
madness, madness
bruises, bruises
stitches, stitches
sadness, sadness
fallow blade