Self explosion.

From the soul.

Sometimes I think idiot is imprinted on my head,

Or that maybe I should be invisible instead.

Because that way at least I won't break hearts,

And leave people hurt, and shattered into parts.

I can't lie to myself, and say that I'm lovely.

I can't be nice, and sweet and act all lovey dovey.

It confuses me, and doesn't exactly help others,

 That I don't need guys, or fuckbuddies or lovers.

What I need is time, and people don't see that.

I don't need a mind f**k, I don't need to fall flat.

Because for now, I can't trust a single being,

And when they look at me, I can't imagine what they're seeing.

I'm grumpy, and moody, and hurtful too.

I'm indecisive and haven't got a clue.

I hide in a shell, because I feel safe.

I am constantly angry, and full of chafe.

I pick people up, and I put them down.

I piss people off, and I wear a frown.

I'm nice went I want to be, and a b***h when I'm not.

And into bad things I am easily caught.

I seem to be happy, just trapped in a bubble.

Perhaps because I stay out of trouble.

But honestly, it's just because I don't want to start,

Another beginning, where I lose my heart.

Author's Note

A rant.