Everyone knows me, how could they not — I
feel like the outlet they plugged into and
My title varies from nickname to
nickname, and I’m an experience each person
goes through and leaves.
I can cross my toes, I love how the
wind blows — by most importantly I’ll get
dragged through glass on my knees.
I make friends fast, I lose them like
burning paper turns into ash. I don’t know
when this started happening,
and I don’t know how to stop. I want
to make everyone happy —
I’ll break my back, Bending over
backwards to see one face light up.
I want to be happy, to live life
fulfilled, because I want my alone time —
but I feel like I’m being killed.
My spirit is gone, when you lose patience
and lash out — how could you have known it
would do me wrong.
But it’s ok, I’ll spend every last drop —
just to make you smile, or to have a bad
K. K. G