To be honest I'm just like you.
Although my limbs don't flow like yours.
My knees are bruised, and so is the rest of me,
Inside and out.
Happiness is prescribed, juice that comes in cartons,
Complete with saturated fat, and nicotine.
Like me, love me,
for I know how you feel inside.
Because your expressions are like a map to how you feel,
I read the wrinkles like a blue dotted line of a motorway.
And your freckles like the much needed petrol station along the way.
I shall not pretend to know you,I know how you hate that.
I just want to let you know, I am the magician,
I know what goes on inside your head.
I just don't know what goes on inside of mine.
My thoughts could make you cry.
My scars like battle wounds only subscribing for emotions and pity.
My face contorted into a brave one, plastered with sticky tape,
That holds my heart together with a single thread of cotton.
I won't go on for long, I'm not a sob story.
I just watch my moods fling, one minute I want to walk three miles, the next, the people in the street make me want to cry And the cotton wool I find doesmake me cry.
Fuck off, you don't know me. And you don't want to.