Youthful

I wish my mind would be quiet for once,
And go a few steps without thinking,
Because all this thought, this careful precision,
Drives me all insane; and I look on my works,
Every word I say, and I hate myself for living,
For letting my poison spread, and I'd rather ramble
Than choke my own voice, but they taught me to strangle
Any trace of who I am, so I stick to my habits,
Against the unknown, afraid to be honest,
To truly exist; so instead of existing,
I mimic what I see, providing what they need,
And pretending this is me; and every part's a piece,
Even outside the evenings; but I felt better here,
Because I tried to really be...

Me?

It used to be so easy,
Back when I wasn't thinking;
But now I think too much,
And I wish I could scramble, wish I could ramble,
Without pausing to take a breath;
But I need the time to think,
I always need more time;
And they have no patience,
Or maybe that's me,
Because I wait too long to wonder,
And I never seem to know...

Me?

I used to be youthful, and maybe I am;
But I lost the means, if not the will,
And I'm much too much a child
To advance beyond a burden;
I push and I pull, I hurt and I hinder,
And even when I care, I'm too careless and clumsy
To hold anything for long - 
Because I don't belong,
I'm unfinished, incomplete,
And everything slips away from me,
Out of a child's reach...

Me, me, me.

It's always me, always about;
The center of my system,
Though I seem to skirt the circle -
Edging round the edges,
On the borders of my boredom;
And since I spin in place,
I can never circumvent
The loneliness of lying
On a point so far away from...

...You.