Pain in my chest, where I presume once my heart used to be
It doesn’t beat, it surges ache through to my every extremity
Ah. Why so gloomy precious? What wrongness is done?
Unto you? Weather blues? Or the loss of a loved one?
Come now, no point in sulking, heave that spirit up and ho
says practically everyone to me, and when I do, lo and behold!
They tell me to not get ahead of myself, to stop being proud!
Motherfuckers, you’re the reason I wear this bipolar shroud!
It always hurts this much when I’m feeling oh so very very low
Tenfold increases the gashes, tenfold pains me every single blow
that you stoop so low to hit me, that you hit me on the balls
And make me cave in from all sides; the ceiling, and the walls
I’m left feeling raped, mutilated with my wits unwhole
And I feel it departing; tattered to rags, my saddened soul
My brother, my mother, my sister, and the street side mister
They see me not, act as if I am not there, treat me as a blister
I am left hurting, helpless at the hands of my emotions
And the tumbling hurricane, and the numerous commotions
I wish to die, and were it that easy I would have done so
A long time back, before the start of everything, three years ago
But you sneery bastards, you jeery dastards, you spineless worms
You are all legion, you are one and many; the devil in all his forms
You know what? Fuck it. I choose to brave this storm that is my life
And come out on the other side, alive; passed through the gauntlets of strife
And you’ll still be the same street side mister, the naysaying catcaller
I’ll be the one perched on high, and you’ll be down with the wall crawlers
I’ll see you and smile, and try to remember you from a life I used to live
when I used to love, had my hand held out for love, but no one dared it give