The scab
I pick
and I pick
until I bleed out these vicious thoughts
that there isnt anything else to do
but to prove my worth
and prove my self
to everyone
to anyone
to me in order to see who I really be
or do I run away from what I actually see
to flee some closure
exposure
to the proof that something exists
something persists
to bring my demise
but I despise the answer
a cancer
my "me against the world' scenario
out of date like my old compaq presario
laptop
crackpot to imagine that I am nobody
when deep down we are all somebody