popular people
all around me,
seeing eyes that
seem pro-founding.
telling me how
i'm not perfect,
that's ok because
i like it that way.
but it gets so hard
when they start you down,
letterman jackets
all surrounding,
hitting me without
a single motion.
i can't be popular,
i wish i could,
but it's wrong to wish
to conform to the crowd,
i wish i had friends
that i didn't have to beg for.
hello popular people,
can i be like you?
can i dress like you?
i know i could,
but it wouldn't be enough,
nothing could ever make it work.
killing me
isn't what you mean,
people just don't know about
my existing.
it's like i'm not even here.
off in some other place,
where no one knows my name.
