Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
And I, filled with dysfunction
I don't want to have to paint my pain for others to see,
My tears, when they fall, I hope their gentleness can touch someone.
I'm tired of staying up all night, thinking of these fights,
Makes me want to stab myself in the arm.
Makes me want to do myself some severe harm.
I don't care for myself like I'm supposed to,
I'm not healthy or pretty or anything at all.
Everyone fights because of me but if I were dead,
Would the fighting be deceased?
I know better than to think of death
With death all around me, I should definitely know better.
I'm scared in my world, trapped and lonely and
Always waiting for someone to pull me out of myself.
I'm waiting to be released.
I'm tired of caring so much, that I care too much,
And I'm smothering everyone else with concernment.
My eyes are my windows to my soul,
And even my soul wants to gouge them out for what they view
Is something I could never fathom.
Mom thinks she knows me inside and out,
But she only knows Michelle so she assumes I'm like her.
Two separate people treated the same,
She should know better than to assume but,
I suppose my father is no better.
I'll say no more on that for who knows who's peering over my shoulder?
Crying, crying, crying, crying, crying is all I know how to do.
I'm afraid I've cried enough to mourn the world over,
And yet, I only mourn
The dying of my childhood youth,
For I am a woman but still treated with disrespect.
April 5, 2004
Suge
My tears, when they fall, I hope their gentleness can touch someone.
I'm tired of staying up all night, thinking of these fights,
Makes me want to stab myself in the arm.
Makes me want to do myself some severe harm.
I don't care for myself like I'm supposed to,
I'm not healthy or pretty or anything at all.
Everyone fights because of me but if I were dead,
Would the fighting be deceased?
I know better than to think of death
With death all around me, I should definitely know better.
I'm scared in my world, trapped and lonely and
Always waiting for someone to pull me out of myself.
I'm waiting to be released.
I'm tired of caring so much, that I care too much,
And I'm smothering everyone else with concernment.
My eyes are my windows to my soul,
And even my soul wants to gouge them out for what they view
Is something I could never fathom.
Mom thinks she knows me inside and out,
But she only knows Michelle so she assumes I'm like her.
Two separate people treated the same,
She should know better than to assume but,
I suppose my father is no better.
I'll say no more on that for who knows who's peering over my shoulder?
Crying, crying, crying, crying, crying is all I know how to do.
I'm afraid I've cried enough to mourn the world over,
And yet, I only mourn
The dying of my childhood youth,
For I am a woman but still treated with disrespect.
April 5, 2004
Suge
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And I, filled with dysfunction
And I, filled with dysfunction
