The yells resonate through my soul in a constant.They pass through ear to ear, place to place, time and time again.
I try not to listen, to let them burn out and shelter my sensitivity from what are seemingly just words.
I should know by now this does not work.
I can only be so numb before it takes me over.
I see the black venom suit while I stand like spiderman.
I have more power than the world combined
But then this venom costume leads to the death of me.
I punch the wall and put a hole through but in my mind it's not there.
I take my arm and put a knife through, it's like my eyes don't even care.
I hear the screams get louder, they're making me enraged.
I feel like I've got a problem, why am I so engaged?
I think of all the fucking people who see me day to day.
No one will say hi, or what's up, they just think I'm there to stay.
Think through ridicule, I'm pitiful, I've made myself believe.
The fire against me in their eyes tells me I quickly gotta leave.
I fear a hell but know that heaven won't come across my path.
I sit inside, I cry at night, what am I the psycopath!
Am I strange for hating everyone who puts me down?
My parents see me being perfect, well perfect child's got a frown.
My eyes twitch, my hands shake, my body is a bomb.
Exploding any minute I don't know where I went wrong.
"Maybe I just need some fresh air" I say while standing on the roof.
"Maybe I just need some drugs so my smile is foolproof."
I hang out by myself, my music is my friend.
I'm finishing this poem so that I don't end up dead.
Taking out emotions seems like the thing to do.
But when you're numb like me, your concience lets death through.
