If I could ever find the right words to say, my wordplay is nowhere near where I want to see it.
With each moment, I’m leaving a dent in the universe. I’ll never be good enough to impress everyone, but as long as I go to sleep happy with what I’ve accomplished, then my mental compass is pointed in the right direction.
Perfection isn’t for the faint of heart. I paint a portrait that is horrific to the mind of a misfit, searching for his imprints. My lens is fogged up. I aim to drain my thoughts, but they’re clogged up.
If I talk enough about what I want, then I could see it. Stare in the mirror long enough, then I could be it. Believing. A stampede of band geeks that can’t breathe, can’t fit in with society, divided. Alive is the first win. It hurts when you can’t find what you been searching for. What’s on the surface is fine, but you want more.
The category isn’t that important, what matters more is the fact that you’d rather be poor with more, then rich with nothing but money. Hungry for something else that isn’t physical.
Ever since middle school, when I collected ink pens for fun, I knew I had the mind of a gun. I was like a sponge. Soaking up as much as I could. Trapped in a neighborhood, up to no good. Look around me and see blood on all faces. Either that or they’re all faceless, all the same person with a different name. This is all entertainment. I came from a family of pain, and made my way into the main room of the spaceship, and now I’m the pilot, like the ink pen.
A caged animal, that was never tamed, but open the cage, and he walks out patient. Are you afraid of him? Say something that never makes sense and they love it, but the most thought out person, they’ll never touch him.
Is it because it’s over their heads? Is it because it’s going against the grain? Are they afraid of change? Is it because they’re all brainwashed, trapped in the same booby trap, and remain lost. They can’t talk, they’re zombies. They’re trying to leave. How does it feel to be in the mind of a mind reader?
The IV is connected to the vein, and the brain is under hypnosis. This is the closest you’re going to get to a ghost. I’m here, but it appears that I’m not.
I just watch.<