Really I am.
Habits to feed,
Hateful, spiteful human animals.
Impulsive creature with no clear features
to distinguish from; easier though, only one such mutant
walks alone shrouded by a normal crowd.
A fresh piece of paper; a clear mind.
I’m not unique; but I’m one of a kind.
Low self esteem with a clear sense of rage.
I write my own scenes; I take center stage.
So many thoughts kept inside my head,
each keystroke frees a part of my dread.
It hides but I can hear the screams
it’s reality lies in my daydreams.
Black and red warning signs flash in my mind,
stop typing, quit sharing, it must remain blind.