"Maybe I'm just paranoid."

I think I'm cynical. Maybe just a little but I
I think I'm lyrical enough to be destroyed because I'm
Paranoid! I-I-I think I'm paranoid. Maybe just a little.

I am no miracle. I wasn't braught to life on purpose.
I'm just not biblical 'cause I don't see it's worth
I think I'm paranoid! I'm just so paranoid. Maybe just a bit.

But if you love me then you'll walk these streets behind me.
'Cause I'm too paranoid to let you walk beside me.
And if you need me then you'll tell me in a letter.
'Cause I'm not gonna get no better baby
Don't you understand me when I say you drive me crazy crazy paranoid!

I'm so invinsible and irresistable. But you can see right through my eyes
to my soul deep inside no matter how I try to hide I'm paranoid.
You think I'm paranoid.

Paranoid! I'm paranoid! I think I'm paranoid!
So step away from me you make me paranoid!
I think I'm paranoid! 'Cause I don't think you love me baby
Everynight you drive me crazy. Maybe maybe maybe I'm just paranoid...
© 2005

Untitled 75

I don't think there's room for me in this world. I just don't seem to fit in at all. I'm black but I'm "not black enough" for the black people at my school. I don't talk like I guess I'm "supposed to" or whatever. I don't dress like I'm "supposed to" I don't know how to do all those dances. Sure I know how to freak dance but I don't really know how to do the stuff you see in video's and stuff. And I've seen them dance at my school. Not to sound racist or whatever but it's like all the "White girls" freak dance but they don't seem to know what they're doing. All the "Black girls" not only freak dance and do it well but we or should I say they do all these other awesome things that I guess is sort of just part of our culture. But I can't do it... Plus they all know how to fight. I can fight sort of. I can kick some peoples asses but I know who I can and can't beat. I'm not about to get myself into anything I know for a fact I can't handle. If I think I can then bring it on. Adrenaline rush when I'm pissed comes in handy also. Plus I do what I have to to win. When I'm angry I lose it. I don't seem to have the confidence that most of the "black people" at my school have either. I don't fit in with my own people... I "act too white", But I don't really fit in there either. It seems like all you have to do when you're white is think you're all that, demand what you want and do whatever you have to to get it, be a whore sometimes, flip your long straight hair, pout, flutter your eyelashes, or cry and you get what you want or who you want. Seems like you can sit there and bask in fake misery pretend you don't know you're beautiful and guys flock to you. I can't go chill with the Asians they think I'm a wanna be because I like anime and manga and video games and I know a few little things in Chinese and Japanese (not much just random stuff that doesn't really form much of a sentence). I find the culture interesting and for that I guess I'm just a wannabe to them. I guess I'm a wanna be to everyone. I just don't fit in. I don't have enough fire to be black. I'm not enough of a tease to be white. I'm not smart enough to be Asian. I don't fit in with any of the stereotypical races. And that's great. But no one really want's someone like that. It's supposed to be so cool to not fit in. It's supposed to be really awesome when you find someone who's actually really truly genuine and original. But when you find that person there's no one else like them and they don't fit in. I'm just not good enough for this world. But I'm stuck here. They say death can save you. I don't want that. I'd rather live in misery than die to achieve a false sense of happiness.




It isn't right for me
to paint your picture every night...
But I do. The silent scream for freedom.
The voice of those who no one hears.
Tired of all the judgement.
People telling Truth and Lies,
Stories of love, lust, and passion.
Stories of hate, anger, and insanity.
Poets never cry, a view into the soul
departing into death, distorted lullabys.
If loving you is suicide I'm not afraid to die.
Drowning in shallow water 'cause I'm too deep to swim.
Painting visions with words, black on white crime
is spilling from a broken heart and mind.
'Cause when confusion lies
we're all drawn in, we all become so blind.
And in my bedroom secret screams,
a silent wish, a hidden dream.
I want to make the whole world see
the tears and blood in poetry
becomes the same flowing through me.
What you want might make you cry
but what you need might pass you by.
The lingering heart still cries on.
Poetic poison love is gone.
© 2005

Solitude

You can see the soul in my eyes.
I'm hiding within myself,
the occasional spill on a piece of paper.
Acquainted with the night,
basking in moonlight.
Leave me to my solitude.

I can see the soul in your eyes.
You write such pretty stories
but life's no storybook.
Your heart is the best poetry,
emotions stir.
I'll leave you to your solitude.
© 2005

Fade Away

It all just fades away
and there's no time to say goodbye.
No time to run away.
No point in even asking why.
We're living day to day
our generation is a lie.
When no one wants to stay
'cause there's no point to even try
and soon we'll fade away
with no one left to say goodbye.
© 2005

Untitled 74

If you could see what my eyes hide
you'd try to justify the things they do.
But is it true? That they could do
such things that bring such pain and anger?
Rage for all the times I had to say goodbye to them.
I thought for so long they were friends to you.
What could I do? It's too untrue.

To try to change yourself for everyone
around you they can't see the sun
forever hidden in the dark destruction of someone
who couldn't see what my eyes hide because
she justifed the things they do to her.

She's looking deep into the mirror.
Slowly watch as truth draws nearer.
And she will try to open up her eyes
and try to redefine the lies
and try to make this world make sense
and built a wall for self defense.
She'll never let a soul inside
hidden in these walls she'll try to hide.

But someone always seeps inside
no matter how we try to hide
inside the eyes of her and I.
One in the same and torn by lies.
If one would try to justify the blind
the ones who see bring peice of mind
and all that's left is just an answer we can't find.
© 2005

It's Raining

It's raining. It's raining.
As lightening strikes the same spot twice
I'm begging God to take my life.
It's raining. It's raining.
But it's not that I want to die
it's just I'm too far gone to try
again. It's raining. It's raining.
In shame I bow my head to say
I give up on this very day.
It's raining. It's raining.
And no one here can see the pain
no need to wipe the tears away.
It's raining. It's raining.
Black rose petals will seek my grave
when my blood soaks the knife it craves.
It's raining. It's raining.
It's raining. It's raining.
It's raining. It's raining.
It's rain.... -ing.
© 2005

Untitled 73

When reflections lie to the naked eye
of a long lost soul who's afraid to die.
She grows older and colder with every year
but she shows no fear as she hides each tear
that she cries out in pain of the lies
that he told her the day she said she was ok
but she lied to herself just to hide all the doubt
so the day that he loved her she'd rip her heart out.
© 2005

Devil's Breathe

Talking is a waste of breath
and living is a waste of death
so if I die before I wake
you'll know I've failed the test.
When angels wings do brush my chest
the devils song will take my breath
then you will lay me down to rest
and say you did your best.
But if I die within your arms,
you fight to keep me out of harm
and charish me until the dawn,
promise you'll miss me when I'm gone.
The devils breath will take me not.
An angels life that I forgot
will wake me from this dream
if you tell me you love me.
© 2005

Perfection MRW

If perfection had a name then the name would be the same
but would be a crying shame should such a name be used in vein.
If perfection walked the earth gracing every being worth
it's presence would it's essence be an overwellming mirth?
Would we crumble would we cry if perfection were to die?
Would perfection be a women? Would perfection be a guy?
If perfection was upon us then perfection we would hail.
Yes perfection is a being here on earth we call Mikhail.
© 2005