|Not close to sleeping, silently weeping, barely keeping, myself from myself, a sigh felt, a sobbing belt, wishing, hating, knowing, wishing, hating, going, nowhere, I swear, I can't take it, I can't fake it, for the sake of it, I fill a lake with it, stop and sit, a stare, I care, my hair is ugly, my face is ugly, my body is ugly, insecure, always here, always fear, my skin I sear, a jealous tear, soaking the pillow, thinking of that willow, every fucking day, nothing new to say, no other way, no doing what I may, just every night I lay, waiting for that day, that way, that may, to finally say, to bay, to convey my dismay in the way we believe in "they," per se. Fuck this day. Fuck this night. Fuck you and your might. You're weak in fight, and your narrow sight. All I do is bite, my lip till it's numb, and I know that I'm dumb and why does he like me, it's not the way it should be, and I see that I'm lucky but I have no idea why, I can't figure out, I shout and I pout and then I mellow out to immediantly return to doubt, what am I about, not looks or books or humor hooks, what is it then, I just pretend, and bend, and mend, and lend, and fend, but don't send the contempt I feel towards her and him and them and "they," so I lay without sleeping, silently weeping, barely keeping, myself from myself.