A budding writer's collection

Chaos

Absence is silence,
Emptiness means lightness
A two-dimensional existence
should feel great
But why am I still begging for quiet?

I see sadness,
And it makes me want to run
I see this pathetic life,
It's like a bullet at point-blank range
It seems like there's nothing beyond this.

I wish I could call myself insane,
There's some solace in that fact,
Knowing that it's me who's wired wrong,
That the world is actually a beautiful place
full of beautiful people.

I wish I could call them insane,
But there are too many of them
It can't be an anomaly
So, is this world built only for them?
Those who can gag and chain their hearts?

I can't fit in 'cause I can see ghosts,
I can't fit in 'cause the truth's still afloat,
I can't fit in 'cause I spit out the stuffed rag,
I can't fit in 'cause I know we're broken,
And they cannot hypnotize me.