inside.my.mind

I’m not a stranger
No I am yours
With crippled anger
And tears that still drip sore

A fragile flame aged
Is misery
And when our hearts meet
I know you see

I do not want to be afraid
I do not want to die inside just to breathe in
I’m tired of feeling so numb
Relief exists I find it when
I am cut

I may seem crazy
Or painfully shy
And these scars wouldn’t be so hidden
If you would just look me in the eye
I feel alone here and cold here
Though I don’t want to die
But the only anesthetic that makes me feel anything kills inside

I do not want to be afraid
I do not want to die inside just to breathe in
I’m tired of feeling so numb
Relief exists I find it when
I am cut
Pain
I am not alone
I am not alone

I’m not a stranger
No I am yours
With crippled anger
And tears that still drip sore

But I do not want to be afraid
I do not want to die inside just to breathe in
I’m tired of feeling so numb
Relief exists I found it when
I was cut

Cut by Plumb

Guess I am kind of a dark mood? Anyway.

So this week at work I have been getting made fun of about being OCD. Seems people think it is strange that my notebook needs to be in the same place, that I always put my papers stacked neatly and face down in the trash, I alway try to stop on the dollar when pumping gas, I get up once an hour and go to the bathroom, once every other hour I fill my water bottle up, every Tuesday and Thursday I wear white shirts with either gray or black pants. Maybe they have good reasons to be making fun.

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